


Consequences of Clueless

by ruthy4vrsmoaked



Series: One Night Stand With Consequences [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Draco Has Tons Of Pacience, F/M, Fluff, Funny Lucius Malfoy, Humor, Romance, Smut, Supportive partner, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-08-19 17:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16539233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthy4vrsmoaked/pseuds/ruthy4vrsmoaked
Summary: One night stand has consequences.He wants to do the right thing.She has other plans.





	1. Oh Shit

**Author's Note:**

> Clueless was originally meant as a one-shot following a prompt on a Dramione Fanfiction FB group- fest. 
> 
> The chapters from this fic, now on started from a nice chat with my lovely marlygrl94, who gave me the start of plunny: what if Hermione stubbornly refused to follow the conventional path? Expect smut, banter, and humour. And a baby Malfoy.
> 
> I can't thank my beta Marly (marlygrl94) enough!

During the week following the mystery dinner, an impressive eagle owl appeared daily at her office carrying a parchment with the same question.

_Go to dinner with me._

_DM_

She read it dutifully and repeatedly answered with the same words.

_Thank you, but not interested._

_HG_

Their worlds couldn't be further apart than this.

She took her NEWT's, accepted a job inside the Department for Regulation of Magical Creatures, grew frustrated with the lack of improvement and was now studying hard to become a lawyer, fighting the system where it mattered the most, straight against the Wizengamot.

After his obliged NEWT's - it was that or Azkaban - he got a job at the department of sports and international liaisons, a smart move from the Ministry to use his talent for sweet-talking and benefit from the old connections through the Malfoy name. Basically, it meant that he got access to free game tickets - as if he couldn't afford them - and dinner with all the VIPs. He called it work, she catalogued it as an extended branch of his spoiled life.

After a week of owls, he finally got the message and dropped the case. They still met at the bar after work, each with their own peers. A chin jerk was enough. If he tried to come too close, she would move away, even call it a night in some cases.

Not that she believed him to be the bigoted, blood-prejudiced git of yesteryear. She was not the slightest interested in knowing if he was changed. Too much bad water between them to extend the olive branch.

She had fed the curiosity, admitted to herself that the man looked too good for his own being, not even denying the fact that the devil knew it. Never would she admit either that he was her best bed partner until today. Like Mozart on his favourite piano, the bloody ferret knew how to manipulate her into the orgasm of orgasms. It must be the year long fine tuning of his experience. But that was it. Each in his own corner, she lived happier this way.

Although.

It was as if the fates were involved. For months, Hermione never bumped into the platinum blond. One night stand later, and bam! At every corner, wherever she went to, so was he.

What a luck.

* **Draco** *

If he ever doubted on her talent to drive him barmy, he learned quickly that it was her best quality after her rational brain.

They shagged. It has given him the best wanking fantasies ever since, and it stroked a string of something, until then, unknown to him. He wanted more.

He wasn't planning on pursuing a possible Mrs. Malfoy, he enjoyed life as a free bird a little too much to give it up. All his previous flames had one thing in common, galleon signs in their eyes, the wish of the green card to enter his vaults. When he ended things with a witch, gifting them some kind of expensive baubles as a thank-you, the masks dropped, and the vulture rose to the surface.

This was what pureblood wives from the sacred twenty-eight were raised to become. The Greengrass sister was, and he never saw Pansy change because he simply never gone there again after their little snogging in Hogwarts. She was one of his best friends, but not a person he could see sharing his life with. The thought alone…

Granger felt like a new type of fresh air. He knew the witch didn't give the bullocks about wealth, so his vaults were safe. She was a pleasure for the eye, and he didn't mind to enter a friendship with benefits with the witch.

Ironically enough she was the one ditching him, where he was even contemplating if she could become more than just a temporary shag until they grew tired of each other.

 _She is cut from another wood_ ; indeed, none of the other witches would refuse to go out with him, even for one dinner. Being seen with him put the woman in the spotlights, and they all love the attention. Unless they are the Muggleborn swot, off course.

Oh well, there are more fish in the ocean.  _Pussy's enough out there, methinks_.

-oOo-

* **Hermione** *

Two weeks later, Hermione arrived at her weekly lunch with Ginny, all flushed and carrying the pack of books all clumsy.

"What's into you, sister? You're never late."

"I'm having one of those days. I overslept, I arrived at the wrong room for my morning class forgetting the latest change, forgot to take the correct book with me… In summary, I'm experiencing a Murphy day."

"I don't know any Murphy bloke, 'Mia, but are you feeling okay? You look pale."

"I feel more tired than usual, I must be needing a vitamin potions cure." She blew a hair out of her face. "I'm hungry, have you ordered already?" Hermione registered the denial while signalling the waitress. A quick look and she knew what her stomach desired. "For me an ice tea and a ham and cheese toast."

Ginny eyed her, "They have a whole wheat sandwich with organic zucchini and tahini spread, isn't that more your cup of tea?"

"Not today, I'm into cheezy comfy food."

"You do need your vitamins, your choices are not your usual you." Drinks arrived, and both women sipped, "Do you have your dress sorted out for the Robarts wedding?"

"Yes, a strapless thing in navy blue, I found at Madam Malkin's. I can use it later for other occasions. I don't understand why he invited the entire Ministry and most of all me."

"To show off, what else? He's after that Wizengamot promotion and is trying to gather votes. You, my dear, do you really want an answer to that one?"

"Great. Amazing, I hope people would grow tired of inviting the golden trio to every little fart they organise." The steamy toasty arrived, and she bit hungry, pushing the rebel cheese strings into her mouth.

"If it's boring, leave under the excuse of conflicting schedules. You have to be so-called somewhere else also…"

"I'll try to memorise that one, conflict of schedules. Perfect. How are you?"

"Bah, you know how tiring it is, this second trimester." Ginny rubbed her bump, "With James making everything else extra busy, I run out of batteries by nine in the evening."

"Pretend I do, Ginny." The toasty was almost fully devoured, "Pretend I'm also pregnant of my second at my twenty-five."

"Sorry." Ginny was surprised with the speed with which Hermione ate her plate. "Are you still hungry?"

"It was a small toasty…" She perused after a pie piece, "Madam, can I have a blueberry pie?" She stopped at Ginny's surprised face, "What? I'm extra hungry, yes. Probably because I'm feeling exhausted lately. It must be the change of seasons."

"Go by the Apothecary before going home and get some decent sleep, 'Mia. You are not you, right now."

"I'll do."

-oOo-

Hermione arrived home by six, after a shopping trip with Ginny for baby clothes - as if the witch didn't have a wardrobe full from James. Kicking her shoes off, she headed to the kitchen to tidy up the set of vitamin vials Ginny forced her to buy.

"I'll just lay down for five minutes, take a power nap. Afterwards, I'll tackle tomorrow's subject." Instead, she collapsed like a log.

"Damn, it will be one of these days. Again." She had overslept. Again.

-oOo-

"Mum, I don't want to go…" Hermione was complaining to her mirror, about being forced to go to this social event of the year. "I don't even like the man, why was I invited to his wedding?"

With much reluctance, Hermione dragged herself under the shower, hoping the jet would save her from her misery. The past five weeks, she didn't get out of bed as the early bird she used to be. No, sir. Lately, she begged for five more minutes, after sleeping for more than nine hours straight.

"Those vitamin potions are a fraud, I should brew them myself."

"What was that, 'Mia?" Ginny's voice came from the other side. "Will you hurry? We only have an hour a half left."

"Yes, Mum!"  _Oh fuck, I want to sleep…_

Twenty minutes and the queen of headaches later, thanks to Ginny's insistent knocking, Hermione emerged from the bathroom.

"You look like crap."

"Good morning to you too."

"I'm just stating the obvious. Are you taking those vials?"

"They are a fraud, I don't feel any improvement." She sat down before her dresser table, Ginny promised to do her hair. "Can I stay home, please?"

"Have you eaten?" Frowning, the red-haired opened the bedroom door, "Harry, can you go and pick a scone for Hermione, please?" The lecture followed, "If you don't get better, I'm dragging you to a healer. It could be something bubbling underneath. Two weeks ago, you bought those potions, and you should have been showing signs of recovery by now. Instead, you look paler. Are you studying too much again?"

"Ginny, I'm studying nearly nothing, I fall asleep above my books around eight. Last night I didn't even have the fumes left to pick it up, I went straight to bed."

"That's it, tomorrow I'm dragging you to a healer."

Harry offered the paper bag with the requested scone. One sniff and Hermione returned to sender. "Thank you, Harry. But I can't stomach the smell."

Ginny forced it back into her hands, "You'll eat, or you'll faint during the wedding from weakness. Unless you hope the git comes and rescues you from the fall."

"Oh, shut up."  _That's what I'm really hoping for, my saving hero in the shape of the ferret._  She ate the bloody thing with long teeth, forcing herself to swallow. She managed to keep it up, until the last bite.

As Ginny was about to apply the finishing touch to her bun, she flew into the bathroom and vomited the recently consumed food. A glass of water appeared in front of her, "You're not escaping me tomorrow. If it weren't this bloody wedding, I would be dragging you right now."

"Zip it for a second Ginny. I implore you."

-oOo-

The invited guests entered the large banquet ballroom after the ceremony, in pairs; Harry served as a double companion, between Ginny and Hermione.

Pansy met them halfway, dressed in a long sapphire green gown, covered in diamonds. "Potterette you look amazing. Fire red underlines your fiery temperament." The women kissed. "But you, Granger. You look as if you have had better days."

"Parkinson, I'm so glad about your compliment, it confirms how I feel. Like crap." She picked a flute with champagne from a flying-by tray. "To my most miserable day ever."

Draco remarked approaching her from the back, "You haven't even spoken to me, yet, Granger. It's going to become much more miserable now." This way, she couldn't avoid him.

"I feel so lucky…"

Theo and Luna joined their little group, Luna taking Hermione in, "Dear Hermione, you have so many Plimpies flying around. You need to sleep more…"

"Luna, I barely do anything else. I sleep, I eat, I puke, and I sleep again."

"Sounds like the flu." Pansy redrew a few steps back, fearing something contagious.

"I'm dragging her tomorrow to have a check-up. It's getting worse for three weeks now." Ginny sent an accusing look Hermione's way, the witch should have take measures by now.

"Stop naggin-" Ron joined their group, and Hermione paled. Hand flew to her mouth, trying to fight off the urge, "Ron, your after-shav-" A new wave of nausea hit her, full strength. "Oh, fuck." She ran as fast as possible out to the garden, as the bathroom was too far away. Between a tight set of bushes, she emptied the little she had left in her stomach.

Ginny showed up again with a new glass of water, "Now I'm worried."

Hermione waved her off, flushing the nasty taste from her mouth. Feeling better, she rejoined the group, Ron now distancing further from her, to avoid a new episode. Blaise was with them. All looking seriously concerned towards her direction.

Harry touched her from afar, "You should go home Hermione, you're getting sick."

Luna calmed them down, "Oh, no Harry, she's not sick. Hermione's pregnant, I can see it in her aura."

"Wha?" Hermione never finished her sentence. She fainted.


	2. Affirmative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, a huge thank you for my Marlygrl94's beta work.  
> Second, enjoy!

She came to her senses in a sterile room at St. Mungo’s. 

Ginny was the first face she saw, “How are you feeling, Hermione?”

“What am I doing here?”

“You passed out at the party, Draco was barely able to catch you before you hit the ground. His seeker skills still work, apparently.”

A male snort rose in the air.

Hermione turned her face towards the sound, but closed her eyes, as the movement made her drunk.

“You’ve got to take small steps, sister. Your blood pressure is still on the low side.”

“You didn’t eat anything before you left home, did you, Hermione?” Harry’s face came to view, as she watched him with one eye open.

"I don't eat much in the morning in the last few days. I puke it all out." She scrunched her face, "When can I go home?" Supporting on her both hands, she rose up in the bed. 

“After you’ve been checked by a Healer, sister.”

“Haven’t they figured out what’s wrong with me, by now?”

"They have, Granger. We were waiting until you came back to the living world before another kind of Healer came."

“Malfoy, could you please?” Harry tried to remain friendly.

“Malfoy, thank you for saving me. I owe you one. Now you can go home, Harry and Ginny are here to help me.”

“I don’t think so. It’s my bloody right to be here.” Draco wouldn’t budge, and Harry knew when he was powerless. 

"I should go and warn the nurse." Harry preferred to walk away before he exploded. Hermione wasn't in shape to handle that type of pressure on the top of all else.

“Your right to what exactly? Are you seeking compensation for the delivered help?”

"No, I'm here because-"

The Healer, a friendly looking old wizard, entered the room. “Ah, Miss Granger. My congratulations. I’m going to make a few quick checks, and evaluate your health before I decide if I can release you. Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, could you please leave us alone?”

“I’m staying.” Draco didn’t tolerate a dismissal.

“You’re waiting outside, just like Harry and Ginny will.”

“Hell, I am. It’s my baby in there, I’m staying.” Hermione paled.

“I’m not pregnant.”

The old man smiled softly, “Yes you are, Miss Granger. I’m going to assess now how far exactly.”

“I can’t be pregnant. You must be mistaken.”

A flick of a wand later and a soft light glowed on her belly, “My wand doesn’t lie, Miss Granger. As you can see clearly, this is the confirmation of a baby in your womb.”

Her eyes widened as round saucers, “No.” 

Ginny squeezed her hand, nodding. “We will be right outside.”

Draco paced around the room, until the door closed. His eyes were unreadable.

The Healer rose the gown just below her bosom, covering her hips decently with the other sheet. He redid the first charm, which confirmed, once again, the pregnancy; the second, "Miss Granger, you are in your sixth week." Lifting the image into the air, he pointed out at a little grey shape laying against the bottom of the picture. "See? Here is your baby, right there. Within another week, we will be able to hear the heartbeat."

“I’m pregnant?”

Grey eyes rolled mockingly but returned to the black & white image floating in the air.

“I’m pregnant?”

“Yes, Miss Granger.”

“I’m pregnant?”

"Yes, Granger. You're pregnant, see? This is not a fake picture. This picture is a reflection from what's happening inside your belly. Within your womb, you carry the next Malfoy heir. Stop parroting."

The healer sensed the underlying tension, “I’ll leave you to discuss this further. Miss Granger, I’m prescribing you a series of prenatal vials, and if you promise me to rest and follow my instructions, I don’t see why I have to keep you here any longer. Just a word of advice, as an obstetrician and as a father. Your body will tell you what do, please follow its needs. Rest enough, eat healthily and keep the stress to a minimum.” That last piece was more towards Draco.

The door was barely closed, or the blond faced her straightforward. "You know what will happen next, don't you?"

“I haven’t the slightest clue, Malfoy. I’ve just found out that I’m having the git’s baby.” It still sounded so distant. Pregnant of the ferret? What’s next?

“We’ll have to get married.”

“And I’m a Slytherin. Hell no!”

“No Malfoy has been born out of wedlock.”

“My bad, git. This baby will be the first.”

“You won’t take my baby away from me, witch.”

"Did you listen to what I've said, Malfoy? We'll find a way to share him or her. But I'm not your Mrs. Malfoy. Not in this lifetime, nor the next."

“I won’t allow you…”

"Listen carefully, ferret. If you want to be part of this pregnancy and work out a kind of arrangement concerning this baby's life, you'll have to take it down a notch. Otherwise, you'll never find me."

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m warning you. I have resources, I can disappear without a trace. Do you wish to test them?”

Draco opened and closed his mouth, like a fish; biting the words he was so eager to say but well aware of the fallout they would cause; she held the proverbial sword against his throat. Showing her his better side, he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Go home, take a decent rest and open your Floo to me." She sent him a fiery gaze, "Please, Granger. Not for me, but for that precious cargo inside your body. We'll talk later…"

His hand floated above her belly, but he refrained from touching, spinning around in a flash and leaving her alone.

-oOo-

“Someone left this place blazing…” Harry entered concerned. Hermione had already conjured her hospital gown into something more presentable and waited patiently until her friends came to accompany her home.

“He can go and stew in his own juices.” She still floated between anger and unbelief. Pregnant? How? Stupid bint, you know exactly how, when, and with who, and that you thoroughly enjoyed the cooking of that little bun in the oven.

“Are you sure it’s his?”

“Harry, lying will not get me any further. He’s been the only one in a while, I’m not carrying the next Jesus inside, conceived by the Holy Spirit.” A headache was starting at the back of her head. “Just don’t ask me if it was during the late night or the early morning shag. It’s Malfoy’s.”

Ginny squeezed her hand, “Let’s get you home first, you’re coming with us to Grimmauld's so I can keep an eye on you. We’ll talk there.”

-oOo-

*Draco*

“Mother? Can we talk?”

“Son, what a surprise, I didn’t expect you here today. Was Robart's wedding so boring then?”

“Where’s father?”

“Out, will be home by the evening.”

“Good, I wanted to talk to you alone. I need… gosh.” Draco still had trouble coping with his new reality, it felt like a bad storyline. “Mother, I don’t even know how to start…”

“Tell me, Son. Do you want some tea?”

“No.” He waved it off, “I’m going to be a father.”

Narcissa’s hand froze mid-air, looking at him with piercing dark eyes, “Who’s the girl?”

“Granger.”

“The muggle-born?” A nod followed, “How?” Draco inclined his head, “I know how babies are made, Draco. I made you, remember? I didn’t know you were dating her.”

"I'm not." Walking toward the bar, he poured himself a few fingers of firewhiskey. "We saw each other a while ago, ended up in bed." He sipped a decent amount, "I asked her to dinner afterwards, but she kept telling me off, so I dropped the case." A new sip. "Today I saw her at that wedding, looking like shite despite the gorgeous dress she wore. Shortcutting the story, she fainted in my arms, I took her to St. Mungos with Potty and Potterette on my tail and got the confirmation of what Looney blurted out in public. Granger is pregnant."

“You are sure it’s yours?”

“Mother, please. I’m not a fan of the woman, but I know she’s cut from decent wood.” Am I defending the witch?

“What are your plans?”

“I told her we had to get married.” A new glass poured, a new long sip. No, he wasn’t in a bad dream.

“Should I prepare for the ceremony?”

“Don’t bother, she cut me off.”

“I don’t follow?”

“Mother, she refused. She doesn’t want to get married, and now I’m quoting, Not in this lifetime, nor the next. What do I do, Mother?”

“No Malfoy was born out of wedlock. Your father will be furious.”

“As if I don’t know it…” He stared out of the window.

“What does she want? Galleons?”

He looked straight in the eye, "It's Granger we're talking about, not one of those money-sucking vampires." Fingers raked through blond tresses, "She wants to share the baby, she's not preventing me from being part of his life, nor of her pregnancy."

“Is that some sort of Muggle way of raising a child?”

“It must be.” Leaning against the wall, Draco slid down till his arse hit the ground, head resting on his fists. “What do I do, Mother?”

“What do you want? Do you see yourself next to the Muggle-born, starting a life together, raising that child as a couple? Or rather, remain single and work out some sort of arrangement?”

“I don’t know…” Fingers massaged his forehead, “She’s a type of woman I don’t see in others. She gives zero ahum about my fortune or my name.”

“That one night stand? How was that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. How was the dot dot dot?”

Draco flushed, “It was fine.” He scrunched his eyes, “It was more than fine. Gawd, Mum. It was the best in a long row.”

"Is there a possibility that you could get together if you got to know each other better? The physical part works fine, in my eyes."

“Are you aiming to?”

"I'm telling you what I think. She doesn't know the Draco I know. Only who you were in school, and I believe it wasn't the best image." Draco shrugged in agreement. "Oppositely, you don't know her either."

“I know she’s a quick thinker, intelligent.”

“Compared to Pansy and the others?”

"Totally the reverse, I could see myself having adult conversations with the swot, from the kind I don't have to dumb down to be understood."

“In other words, she would be your match on the intellectual field?”

"It's not about if she can keep up with me, Mother. She exceeds me."

“My advice is: get to know her, evaluate how you feel about her, and only then, can you set out a work plan.”

“I don’t understand completely what you’re heading at…”

"Son, you don't know if this witch could be your missing puzzle piece, that one soul who complements yours. Like your father is my other half. You don't know it, because you don't know her. Figure out first, with open eyes, forgetting all the prejudices. If this witch appeals to you, or not, the fact alone will be deciding on how you'll proceed." He kept looking at her. "Oh, Draco, sometimes you are the spitting image of your father. If you fall in love with her, you try to make her fall in love with you. Otherwise, you'll have to reach a sort of understanding with the bloody woman, and raise that child outside the traditional way."

"Who's raising a child outside the customary form?" Lucius entered the room, in his regal fashion. 

Draco grunted, he wasn’t ready to break down the news to his father. 

Lucius looked intently from one to the other face, “I’m waiting?”

“Darling, we are just gossiping…”

“Mother, don’t lie to Father. It will not be a secret for long, it wouldn’t surprise me if the Daily Prophet doesn't publish an article tomorrow…” Gathering all the courage he still had, he blurted, “I… Granger is having my baby.”

Lucius blinked, “I didn’t get that. Care to repeat it?” 

“Granger is pregnant. With my baby.”

A fist was flexed, “After all we’ve been through, now I’ll have to endure a mudblood as a daughter-in-law? If I forget about the slight detail of a half-blood grandson?”

The younger jaw tensed, “My son, or daughter, will be a Malfoy, above all. His blood status is the least of my concerns. What I don’t allow you, is to insult the mother of my heir. I owe her my freedom.”

“You’ll have to marry as soon as possible, I’ll speak to a few of my connections to speed up the paperwork.”

“Don’t bother, she declined me.”

“Outrageous!” Lucius spat in anger. “How dare this mud- Muggleborn witch to insult the House of Malfoy?” The warning glare of Narcissa forced him to correct the offence.

“See, Mother… I was expecting nothing less than this. You can find me in my room.”

“You’ll do as I told you, and we’ll force her into marriage.”

"I'll do shit of what you tell me. I'll play nicely according to Granger's wishes because I'll not jeopardise the chance of being part of the life of my child. If she doesn't want to marry, can you blame her? I wasn't exactly prince charming to her during our student years. But if she refuses, then I'll comply. I don't have a choice. And don't you even contemplate stealing my heir from her." Draco's chest rose fast up and down. "Or, you'll get to see another side of me."

He left a silence behind while slamming the door hard on his way out.

“Narcissa, we can’t accept this!”

"Lucius, we are powerless. I don't make the mistake of underestimating Miss Granger. We are speaking to one of the most talented and strongest witches of our present time; I don't doubt she can turn our son's life into a living hell, by keeping his baby away from him. If we intervene, he'll never forgive us."

“But no Malfoy has been bor-...”

“I know, I’m not stupid, Lucius. Yet, our son’s biggest concern at the moment is losing this baby. Not that the mother doesn’t want to be his wife, or what you think of this whole issue. Keep your long fingers away from this business and hope for the best.”

“A mudblood as a daughter-in-law?”

“A woman that makes your son happy and brings some joy into this family. It’s been very dark lately. I would love to hear some baby giggles around these walls, and I will intervene if you’re messing with this wish of mine.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You do realise that your like doesn’t matter?”

Both headed to the room, minds set on the same goal but from a different approach.


	3. Worse Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to my Marlygrl94 for her beta help.

 

As Draco opened this morning's Daily Prophet, he spat out the tea he just sipped.

Headline shouted: " _War Hero pregnant from former Death Eater by Rita Skeeter, read more inside_ ". The frontpage picture was him catching a fainted Hermione in his arms.

"Fuck!"

"Son, mind your language." Narcissa reprimanded.

"Read for yourself, Mother." Draco shoved the newspaper abruptly towards her. "Tell me what you think."

"Must inopportune." Narcissa's mouth set in a hard line. "Miss Granger will not like to see her secret so publicly smashed." She cross-read the article, "Skeeter fishes after a possible wedding, underlining that no Malfoy heir has been born out of wedlock."

"The bitch has no say in the matter."

"Miss Skeeter is the first of thousands to wonder the same thing, Draco," Lucius spoke up, after perusing the article from afar. "Our good reputation will be smeared, we were finally getting some of it back."

"Not a word about reputation, Father. You ruined it." He pushed his plate away from him, hunger had left his system. "I fear Granger's reaction."

"Can't you contact her? You should talk to each other."

"I'll use the Library's Floo, see if I can make her agree to meet me."

-oOo-

Harry snatched the Prophet out of Hermione's hands, as her face grew paler by the second. "Oh, shit."

"The whole world knows…" Feeling nauseous again, she ran to the nearest bathroom.

Ginny followed her with a wet cloth, "You should talk with the ferret about this. It's gotten out of control."

"He proposed, Ginny. I declined him. There's nothing left to say."

"You shouldn't face the backlash alone. The baby is half his."

"I know. I don't want to keep him away, I just don't want to marry him because we have to. I live in the Twenty-First Century, not in the Middle Ages. We would kill each other after the first night."

"You should shag your husband before making yourself a widow, sister."

"Shagging the ferret is not a burden."

"Hermione, too much information." Harry followed the whole conversation. "I agree with Ginny, this should be handled between the two of you."

"I'll floo-call him." Ginny helped her get on her feet, founding steady ground after a sway. She headed to Harry's hearth, fixed her hair and initiated the call.

On the other side, it was Narcissa and Lucius who met her.

"Miss Granger. What a very expected yet not so pleasant surprise." Lucius was himself. He flinched when a shoe struck his shine.

"Miss Granger, please. You're most welcome to come over, I guess you want to talk with Draco." Narcissa tried to undo her husband's damage

"I wanted to floo-call him."

"Nonsense, it's not healthy in your state, to be sitting so long on your knees. Come forward, the wards will accept you. My dearest Lucius will warn Draco of your arrival." One mystery solved, the Malfoys knew. "You're carrying the youngest Malfoy scion, that's the reason you sought about the wards, I think." Narcissa motioned once more to enter.

Hermione retreated, asking Harry for advice.

"Go, this is not a subject to talk between flames. If you need me, I'm only one patronus away." He eyed her, "Be reasonable but don't let them walk over you, promise?"

"I can take care of myself." She left Grimmauld Place, to enter the infamous Manor, Draco already waiting with an extended hand.

Her pale face concerned him the most, "Hello, Granger. Still not feeling well?"

"Let us say, it has been a very intense twenty-four hours. I sleep profoundly but wake up as if I haven't slept at all."

"It's normal in the first three months." Narcissa approached Hermione. "Welcome to our home. I truly hope it will bring you more happiness, this time." Lucius mumbled something, but Hermione decided to ignore. It didn't sound very accommodating.

"Have you eaten something?" Narcissa beat Draco in speed. "I can have Tibby prepare something light for your stomach." Hermione's hesitation sealed the deal, the older witch holding her elbow and bringing her towards the breakfast table, still covered with this mornings' meal.

"Tibby!" Hermione startled from Narcissa's command. "Miss Granger, my house-elf is being paid, and as you can see, she wears her own choice of attire."

The elf swung around with a smile, "Tibby is dresses todays as a maid." She sank lightly in a bow. "Missus, what can Tibby do for yous?"

"Can you bring a light herbal tea for Miss Granger and some biscuits?"

The elf eyed Hermione, the smile faded into a look of reverence. "Missus is having a baby?" Closing in with tiny steps, her hand reached out pleading. "Can Tibby feel?" It all felt so surreal to the brunette, but she nodded. A little hand rested on Hermione's flat belly. As in slow motion, the little creature's face brightened in delight, "He's a strong little baby. Master Draco's baby is a strong little boy." A full tear appeared on the elf's face, "Tibby much happy. Tibby will take good care of missus."

"See, another mystery is solved, House-elves magic is infallible. At least one Malfoy tradition that isn't broken." Lucius broke the magic, sneering behind the newspaper. It didn't go unnoticed the yelp he released, from an unseen hex. Narcissa's doing.

Tibby reappeared with the requested tea, biscuits and a bowl of cut fresh fruit, "Vitamins are very important, Missus looks very tired."

Uneasy, Hermione couldn't resist taking a slice of green apple, munching with small bites.

"Do you feel nauseous too in the morning?" Hermione nodded at Narcissa's gentle question. "Have dry biscuits on your night table. I had to get out of bed in three acts, more rolling out of it. It settled down when I reached the fourth month, I hope for you it doesn't take too long."

"Aren't there any potions against morning sickness?" Draco wondered, "We do have access to an extensive herbal knowledge, there must be something to help."

"I haven't given it a thought yet." Hermione kept bringing piece after piece. It did look inviting.

"Lucius, we will give these two young people privacy." The wizard wasn't all too happy about being shoved away from his breakfast. He hadn't finished reading the financial section. "Lucius!"

There was something about seeing the man follow the orders of his wife, that Hermione found hilarious to watch. Clearly, Narcissa wore the pants.

"Mother threatened him with a week time-out if he didn't follow her orders today," Draco explained once the coast was clear.

"Do I want to know what type of time-out?"

"Not even I need to know." He sat straighter in his chair, "I guess you read the Prophet."

"Impossible to ignore the front page. I need to have a chat with the insect, about publishing my private life without consent."

"The insect?"

"Skeeter is an unregistered animagus. She transfigures into a beetle. Probably how she got a whiff on our issue, I didn't see her yesterday."

"I did, unfortunately."

"Well, I'm sorry for what they published."

"Which part? I read no lies, only assumptions based on gossip."

"I hate the part of a former death eater."

"I've been one, unwillingly. No, I'll rephrase. I took the mark because it seemed the only option left."

"I know why you did it, in your place I would have done the same. I wouldn't have testified on your behalf if I believed otherwise." The tea felt like a blessing, it tempted her to ask Tibby about which blend she used.

"Do you want to move to the sofa? It's more comfortable there to speak." His stomach was churning, utterly adrift on what his next move should be. He relaxed slightly as Hermione accepted and followed him. His hand was eager to touch her lower back, but he refrained.

Giving up, she sat head leaning against the rest, "How stupid can we be, forget the anti-conception charm."

"At least, you're not blaming me."

"That is another kind of stupid. It takes two to tango. You didn't make this baby alone." The hand flew unconsciously to the belly.

"How? I mean, what…"

"You mean how I feel about this pregnancy? Malfoy, I didn't plan this. You and I, we are like cat and dog. The thought alone is hilarious. I thought for a second, if I'm honest, about getting rid of it." Draco tensed. The words that followed relaxed him, seconds later, "I couldn't. It felt wrong, even if it's your baby. I can't accept the thought of aborting him. Somehow, this little being inside my body claimed his spot inside my heart."

"Thank you." He meant it.

"You don't have to thank me, Malfoy."

"Draco." He continued after her confused look, "Call me Draco."

"Alright, if you call me Hermione in return. As I was saying, you don't need to thank me. We need to find a way to collaborate and make the life of our son as comfortable as possible. Damn it, it's a boy. Are you sure the elf is right?"

"If my father says so." He rose a hand to appease her silent comment. Draco drew a deep breath, "Are you sure you don't want to do the right thing?"

"What right thing? You don't love me, I certainly don't love you. I don't want to be shackled for life to a man that in the best of possibilities will learn to tolerate me." Her face scrunched, "It goes both ways. You are a git."

"You're the swot, and the mother of my first born." It surprised him how she calmly spoke to him. This last jab was the first, and not even meant to stab. "Listen, I'm leaving the idea of marrying you for what it is, an idea. Can you meet me in the middle here? You don't know me inside out, neither do I, you." She listened, "We need to know each other better."

"We had the shagging already. It's not happening again."  _Cross some dots._

"Woman, I'm not thinking on a roll between the sheets. Plus you can't be sure it won't happen again, unless you're developing a talent for divination." Her silence was meaningful, "I thought so." He straightened an invisible crinkle on his pants. "Will you at least let me take you out, for dinner? Somewhere in Muggle London, where the chance of being caught is less probable than in Diagon Alley?"

"Can we do lunch instead? By eight o'clock it's like I'm hit by a sledgehammer, completely empty batteries."

"Of course. Tomorrow?"

"You know a place?"

"I was hoping you did." She nodded, remembering her favourite spot not far from her parents' place. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"Can you be tired in my place?"

"I would gladly." Draco chuckled, "But the puking, that I can't."

"Believe me, it's not my choice of activity either." She rose to take her teacup, but he brought it to her hands. "Your father is pissed off."

"Don't worry about him, he's my burden. Plus I have an ally, my mother."

"It surprises me how friendly she acted."

"It's not an act. It's a longtime dream coming true, she's been nagging my head to settle down and start a family."

"Then I show up!" Her chest shook in laughter. "The mudblood who beat you at school. Oh god!"

"Don't call yourself that."

"It doesn't phase me."

"Even then, you're a talented witch. My son couldn't have a more powerful mother."

"Big words there, Draco. You almost sound as if you respect me."

"I'll stop before your ego inflates more than your bump."

"What bump?" Hermione rose her blouse, "It's still flat as a pancake." She rubbed the skin back and forth. Looking up, she noticed his transfixed stare. Wordlessly, she took his hand and placed it right under the belly button, hers on top.

Draco felt a lump in his throat, closing his eyes so she couldn't read the emotions in it. He didn't loathe the idea of being a father. Neither did he hate the fact that she was his son's mother.

He only didn't know how to move forward.


	4. The Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual token of gratitude to my Marlygrl94.  
> A lovely reader pointed me out to a few inconsistencies concerning Hermione's studies. She wants to become a Barrister but I've changed a few details into her last year at the Universiy of Law, instead of attending the bar exam at the end of May, as originally described.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

##  The Friends

 

Hermione had barely left the Manor, before his friend invaded the vacated room.

 

“Tell me this is all a joke!” Pansy didn’t lose a second’s breath.

 

“Which part exactly?”

 

“Is the swot having your baby?” The witch sought confirmation, much as Blaise did.

 

“For once, the Prophet reported the truth.”  _ Fuck, my peace is to pieces. _ “Granger, I mean Hermione - I must exercise - is indeed pregnant of my child. And, before you ask, it was conceived at that mystery dinner affair from a few weeks ago.”

 

“Mate, you didn’t tell me you dipped in her swotty quim.”

 

“I don’t need to tell you all about my shags, methinks. There are people like me, who don’t feel the need to brag about their sexual escapades.”

 

“There has been a severe change about that aspect of my life.” Blaise sounded clipped.

 

“Let me guess, our Pansy here finally shackled your dick?”

 

“Do you really have to put it so crudely, Draco? Plus, stop using my wizard here as a distraction from the main issue. The Hermione Granger is cooking your bun in her oven? Have you settled a date?”

 

“Not happening.”

 

“Don’t be that kind of wizard, Draco. Assume your responsibilities instead of abandoning the ship.”

 

“Pansy, it’s not me who’s abandoning the ship. She told me very clearly she doesn’t want to become the next Mrs. Malfoy.”

 

“It must be her pregnancy hormones. No way a witch would turn you down. Ask her again tomorrow!”

 

Draco fixed his gaze on Pansy, “She turned me down twice in two days… I got the message, thank you very much.”

 

“That should be the headlines instead.” Blaise was nearly having a fit, “Malfoy heir declined.”

 

“If you’re finished having fun at my expense…”

 

“We need a plan of action, I’ll knock some sense into her head. You’re the most eligible bachelor in the entire world, right there in the same category as the Muggle Prince Harry.” Pansy was already shaping up a strategy.

 

“You’ll be doing absolutely shite. She wants to play nice, and let me be part of the kid's life. If you do something to antagonise her and make her change her mind…”

 

“But you’re Draco fucking Malfoy, how dare she say no to you?”

 

“For the most human of reasons, Pansy. She has zero fucks to give about money, prestige or whatever else the Malfoy name could give her. She wants a husband that loves her.”

 

“Fake it.”

 

“Blaise, be careful mate, your witch is saying more than she should.”

 

“Noted.” Blaise pressed his lips together, not enjoying the direction this conversation was heading.

 

Pansy rose a perfect eyebrow, “Stop, you both. You know my feelings, Blaise. Draco, what do you want?”

 

“My mother asked me the same. I don’t know.”

 

“Your parents know?”

 

“My father is livid about the out-of-wedlock issue, but my mother is surprisingly supportive of whatever I decide.”

 

“Doesn’t sound strange to me, your mother has been after your arse about you settling down. Plus, she and the blood mania don’t go together, it’s your father’s disillusion, not your mother’s.” Pansy paced back and forth.

 

“What I do want, as far as I have been able to adjust to the idea, is for my child to know his father, and for me to be part of his life. Where Hermione and I are by then, is less a priority.” Of all possible alternatives, the one that scared him the most is him becoming a stranger to his son.

 

“You don’t gag from the idea of the swot becoming your wife?”

 

“I can think of worse things, like a woman whose only with me for money?”

 

“The shag was good then?” Blaise suggested with half curled smile. “You don’t oppose to a second round.”

 

“Zabs, my man, I don’t talk…”

 

“It was all I needed to know.”

 

Pansy spun, staring straight into Blaise’s gaze, “What do you mean?”

 

“Means, my love, that our friend here didn’t found the swot a burden in bed… At least, on that field, they match.”

 

“Match doesn’t even cover it,” Draco muttered. Blaise caught half of it and grinned like a good Slytherin. “Zip it!”

 

-oOo-

 

* **Hermione** *

 

It was probably the tenth time she was reading the same paragraph, as the chime of the Floo caught her attention.

 

“Hey, Pansy.”

 

“My lovely swot, we need to talk.”

 

“Just say “my congratulations” and move on, I’m trying to concentrate; I have a test tomorrow.”

 

“How is that going?”

 

“Peachy as in nowhere.”

 

“I bet you can’t stop thinking about a gorgeous blond wizard.”

 

"Not exactly. I can't focus on this damn page, while all I think is how in hell am I going to finish this law course if the end collides with my due date."

 

“When is that?”

 

“The OB told me I’m six weeks far… I have thirty-four weeks left, I think it will be around half may.”

 

“It’s going to cut close I fear.”

 

“Tell me something new…”

 

“Draco proposed.”

 

“I told you, tell me something new. Don’t come with old news.”

 

“I’m trying to understand why you refused his offer.”

 

“Pansy, this might be where you and I defer. I want to marry for love, and nothing else.”

 

“You can learn to love Draco. He can be a nice guy if he wants.”

 

“Happy me, the ferret can be a nice guy.” Hermione rose her hand and left Pansy for a few moments alone, bodily needs needed to be tended. She returned with a biscuits plate, offering one to the other witch.

 

“Is this healthy food?”

 

“Don’t lecture me on healthy right now, I need comfy food.” She slammed her book closed, further studying seemed impossible now. Pansy wasn’t going away within minutes, by the looks.

 

“How do you see Draco and yourself?”

 

"At the moment? Polite cooperation."

 

“You’re giving him the chance to be part of your life.”

 

“My middle name isn’t ‘bitch’, you know?”

 

“You do understand if you were a pureblood, you would be choosing a wedding dress, at this very moment followed by negotiating the most interesting contract for you?”

 

“Pansy, blame it on my Muggleborn upbringing. What’s good for a child to have two parents that are civil at best, or at each other's’ throat at worst? How can it grow up carefree and happy?”

 

“You just described the majority of the Sacred Twenty Eights childhood. We don’t grow carefree and happy. Every whim is satisfied, sure, and there it ends. We are taught in decorum, ballet, how to be the perfect wife and to attract the most interesting partner to strengthen the bonds within the Pureblood society. My mother slept in a separate bedroom, dinners were at best polite and silent, and my father upheld various affairs with my mother’s knowledge. Much like my mother did.”

 

“I grew up in a family that loved to pamper each other. My father never failed Valentine’s day, after more than twenty years of marriage. My mother always spoiled my father with his favourite food, at night they would sit on the sofa and cuddle while watching the telly. My father never cheated on my mother, there were moments those two behaved as teenagers in love. I want that in my life, Pansy. Not a business arrangement, of which half is already fulfilled.” Her hand rubbed on the abdomen.

 

“I’m officially jealous of the Muggle family life.”

 

Hermione burst in laughter, “Can I publish your statement?”

 

“I’ll deny every word!” The plate of biscuits was nearly empty. “Listen, why don’t you and I gather a few of ours together and have dinner at the Leaky, tomorrow? We have every interest in getting to know each other better, your baby will be uniting us.”

 

“I easily get tired.”

 

“If it becomes too much, I’m sure Draco will bring you home, or otherwise, your Potter will.” Pansy launched the alternative, to pacify the panic look on Hermione’s face.

 

“I guess it can’t hurt.”

 

-oOo-

 

* **Draco** *

 

“You owe me big time, my dear.”

 

“What did you do now?” Pansy re-entered his home as if she owned the place. He was checking out a new proposal from the Italian government, frowning at a few demands. 

 

“Tomorrow, you’ll pick up a certain witch and accompany her to the Leaky, we’ll have dinner and try to be polite with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum.”

 

“I thought Blaise said we get along?”

 

“We do, just enough to keep the peace.”

 

“What have you cooked up?”

 

"A dinner between friends to become better friends as your little one will be the uniting factor. In the meantime, I sold you as a bloke who can be a nice guy, you'll show her from now on your best side, and if she gets tired, you'll bring her home because you'll insist."

 

“Is insisting a good move?”

 

“Being supportive is the key to success.”

 

-oOo-

 

* **Hermione** *

 

As it was, for now, she officially hated morning sickness. The biscuit suggestion from Narcissa helped poorly, but it could also be the result of not knowing how to rise from bed in three stages, as the older woman had described.

 

It was as if she spoke of the devil, Tibby the elf apparated with a bang, "Missus Narcissa told Tibby to bring Misses the good tea." The retching noises from the bathroom disgusted Tibby, and the elf disappeared in seconds to return with a Draco at her side.

 

He sent the elf away and helped Hermione hold her hair back, finding the edge of the bathtub to lean against.

 

“Go away, this is repulsive.” She pushed against his leg, embarrassed. 

 

Draco rubbed her back, shushing her, “Don’t worry about me, Hermione.” A glass of water appeared in her sight, and she accepted gratefully. “I read some, yesterday night, and brewed you a potion from nux vomica. According to the tome, it helps against nausea. I tried to tweak the taste a little. If it helps, I’ll make sure you have a plentiful supply.”

 

"Thank you." She took the vial and emptied it, gagging from the taste, "Oh, bloody hell, this tastes so nasty Draco." She felt, however, a change. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, but its flavour is revolting."

 

“I’ll work on it, I promise.” He helped her rise to her feet, guiding her towards the bed with a hand on her lower back. A flick of his wand reheated the tea Tibby brought, and he handed her the mug, “My mother suggested to eat some light breakfast, a toast perhaps?”

 

“I’m not much into eating right now.”

 

“Hermione, you need to eat to prevent a new drop in blood pressure.”

 

“It’s not lack of food that originates low blood pressure.”

 

“True, but an empty stomach isn’t going to help either. Can Tibby bring you a light meal please?”

 

“Draco…”

 

“Tibby is a free elf, she’ll be more than happy to help you. She is my personal elf and, with your permission, I’m assigning her to you, to stand by you when I’m not around.”

 

“No, I don’t want an elf at beck-and-call.”

 

"Promise me you'll call after her if you need help?"

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“Stubbornness doesn’t suit you, Hermione. Tibby can make your life easier, and their magic feels things before you sense them. Allow her to help you.”

 

“Smallsteps, Draco.”

 

“Tibby! Can you bring Hermione a light breakfast?” Within minutes, buttered toast and some freshly cut apple appeared on the table.

 

“Can Tibby do something more for the misses and the baby?”

 

“No Tibby, it will be all. Thank you.” A crack later, and they were alone. “I’ll leave you to eat at ease.”

 

“Aren’t you staying?”

 

“Do you want me to?”

 

“You have been nothing but nice.”

 

“Smallsteps, Hermione. Your own words.” He gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “Can I pick you tonight? We’ll do our lunch another day, if it’s okay with you.”

 

"It's fine, I'll adjust the wards." This mornings start felt surreal. This Draco was an entirely different bloke than the sassy git from a few weeks. It unsettled her, and she could miss it like hell, her mind was still wrapping around the idea of becoming a mother unexpectedly.

 

She barely noticed him leaving.

 

-oOo-

 

Her day progressed at a snail's pace, or so it felt.

 

She missed her first period, cursing the raising overload of work - as if she didn’t have already quite a backlog courtesy of her tiredness and lack of focus, you’re welcome!

 

Secondly, and much against her discipline, she learned she couldn’t focus at all. All that her professor explained, went lost between her ruminating mind. She thought more about future arrangements than Ancient Laws she should have been writing down.

 

She knew she needed to look out for a new flat, her little home had only one bedroom, momentarily not an issue until the baby was old enough to sleep in his own chamber, yet it would change later. 

 

What kind of settlement should she agree with Draco? The thought to hand the baby over to Draco, to spend a week with him, brought already a nasty feeling in her heart. The other option was to share a house with the wizard, but what if he started to date with another witch? If he found the woman with whom he wanted to marry?

 

The alternative - marry the man - was ruled out almost instantly. Even if they lived amicably together, she didn’t love him, neither did he love her. She wanted more of life than a platonic marriage, she preferred to remain single instead. The idea shouted aloud: to live a half-life. Not her intention.

 

Lastly, her plan to become a lawyer got thwarted by a pea-sized being. How would she attend the final examinations if it collided with her due-date? It wasn’t that she could ask Draco to carry the bump while she was roasted by the Chief-solicitor. She couldn’t put a time-out on her pregnancy when it became harder during her studies.

 

In the end, she returned home, dumping her burden on the nearest table and let her fall on the sofa with a sigh, “Only for five minutes.”


	5. Dirty Dishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to my Marlygrl94 for her beta help. Enjoy!

**Chapter 6: Dirty Dishes**

A slender pale finger stroked over her cheek.

She smiled in her sleep, from the tickles it originated.

Draco debated internally if he should let her sleep or wake her up. Hermione looked exhausted as far as he could tell; on the other hand, he foresaw her ire if he made her skip this dinner. Deciding to keep an eye on the witch for signs of tiredness, he whispered, "Hermione, wake up."

"Five more minutes, mum."

He chuckled, "Granger, it's almost seven, you don't want to be late at the Leaky."

The name of the restaurant worked as the bell of an alarm clock. She surged up, too quickly of course, "Oh bloody hell." It took her a few seconds to regain balance and see straight again.

"Do it slower, witch." He saw the colour fade from her face, "Don't worry, we still have time."

"What time is it?"

"Half past six."

"You're kidding me right?" He sensed her anger had nothing to do with him. "I wanted a power nap of five minutes, and I slept for three hours? Great, just great."

"The healer said to listen to your body. If you're sleeping this much, it's because you need it."

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one with an overload of work to catch up, and it's piling up by the day." He assisted her in sitting straight, Hermione relieved for not feeling the nausea come up. "I have assignments to do, tones of chapters to read, Draco. I'm so behind on my school stuff."

"What are you doing?"

"Studying to become a barrister. It's a three-year university course and it ends with an exam end may next year."

"I thought you still worked at the Magical Creatures' Department."

"I actually left it three months ago; it frustrated me to get nowhere with the old bats at Wizengamot. I can only fight the system from within if I'm a full-fledged barrister." She rubbed the remaining sleep out of her face. "How long do I have?"

"How much do you need? We can arrive later, they'll understand."

"Can I have a half hour? A quick shower to feel a better human being."

"Take the time you need, I'm going nowhere."

While she flew into the bathroom, he browsed through her books laying spread over the table. Her pages filled with notations in a hurried font, underlined sentences and exclamation marks in a few paragraphs. The divider showing how far she was in her progress, similar to his corner folding, back at Hogwarts.

It impressed him how she had managed to combine a full-time job at the Ministry and this massive program. A quick calculation told him the pregnancy was really ill-timed, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Glancing around her apartment, he also noticed her dirty dishes of this morning piled up in the sink. "Tibby!"

"Yes, Master."

"Can you give the kitchen a cleaning up before Hermione gets out of the shower?"

"Tibby will cleans very fast, Master." The dishes started themselves, while the broom dusted and the counters got a good scrubbing.

Using the freedom he had - knowing all too well she would be furious when she found it out - he inspected the content of her pantry; discovering that Hermione needed urgently to do some grocery shopping. Mentally, he made up a quick list of the most basic needs to send Tibby later on errands.

Hermione had nothing of fresh fruit lying around, only almost empty bags of rolled oats and granola, a bottle of a fizzy drink he didn't recognise - probably some Muggle beverage - and a few other things. But nothing substantial and absolutely not what a pregnant woman needed to keep her energy levels balanced.

She might not want his money, but she would have to accept him taking care of her. It's the least he could do for now, aside from accompanying her to the Healer appointments.

In the background, the waterfall stopped. He heard her pace around and complaining in a loud voice.

"Is there something wrong, Hermione?"

"Nothing that a man can help thank you." She cursed some more, and according to the sound of her steps, it made him think she acted like a headless chicken.

"Are you sure, Granger?"

"Ah fuck." It sounded like a whine to him.

He pushed the door open, not caring if she was decent or naked, her body by now held very little secrets. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"I bumped my foot against the bed, nothing else." Hermione limped around, frustration clearly visible.

"What's the matter?" He brought her to a full stop before she would go in full panic mode.

"I wanted to wear those jeans, and I can't close them. Tried another pair, one of my favourites, button won't close either. My clothes don't fit!"

"You're a witch, you can adjust them with a flick of a wand?" Draco knew it wasn't the time to laugh as he held his crown jewels for dear.

"I tried, but I feel incarcerated, can barely breathe."

He perused through her clothes searching for a suitable dress, choosing a nice navy blue between other garments, "Try this."

"Did you just choose my clothes?"

"It was that or endure a full panic attack from a pregnant woman. I know how dramatic Pansy can act under normal circumstances, I can only imagine that your hormonal household will increase the drama level." His explanation increased something indeed, her outrage.

"I'm no drama queen, git."

"Have I said so?" Her anger radiated in waves. "Get dressed, do something nice with your hair and let's head over to The Leaky."

"Yes, Master. Does Master require anything else?"

"Yes, for you to act normal. Sarcasm doesn't suit you. Unless you want me to help you suit up?" A shoe flew against the door he closed seconds before; proving his theory. Pregnant women did have a short fuse.

Tibby beamed of expectation, "Master, Tibbys cleaned all as Master Draco asked. What can Tibby do mores?"

Draco found an empty piece of parchment and wrote his list down, "While we are gone, I want you to buy all these and come back to fill the pantry. Can you also bring some of the herbal tea blend you prepared for Granger? Let them charge to the Malfoy Manor as if it was for us." He heard her approach, "Go, Tibby, before Hermione sees you."

For a second he looked as the kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar, "What did you do?"

"Me? Nothing?"

Hermione looked around, "Did you read in my books?"

"I browsed yes, is it a crime nowadays?"

"Where are my dirty dishes?"

"I took care of them."

"You wash off?"

"Occasionally." Something was off by the way he spoke, but she couldn't lay her finger on it. He offered her his arm and headed to the Floo.

-oOo-

"I was about to call a search party, girl. How come you're so late?" Pansy's welcoming message received a nasty glare from Draco.

"Well, I work at the moment at the speed of a diesel engine, need time to warm up."

Harry chuckled, raising from his chair to kiss Hermione on the cheek, "You're forgiven."

"What the hell are diesy engines?"

"Zabini, compare them to very slow broomsticks that after a while can fly as fast as a nimbus…" Lecturing did feel good, thought Harry. "Muggle cars, mate."

The meal was easily ordered, drinks arrived shortly after and surprisingly enough, the topic of conversation was comparing the newest brooms.

Between the talk, Draco kept a close eye on Hermione, nearly as intense as Harry and Ginny, especially when the food arrived and she began to pick her choices.

"Why don't you try some of this?" Draco offered her a piece of medium raw steak.

"It's not cooked thoroughly, I read it could be dangerous." Her fingers peeled off a chunk of chicken, the taste of it was divine in her mouth. Her stomach growled from the hunger.

"What else?"

"What else, what, Draco?"

"What else could be dangerous?"

"Raw cheese, seafood, and I think raw vegetables if you can't trust them to be properly washed."

"That's about it," Ginny confirmed the list, Susan nodding in acknowledgement. "I watch out where I eat a salad. But I don't deny myself a good glass of wine or butterbeer. One per day doesn't hurt."

Susan rubbed her own seven-month belly, "How's morning sickness, Hermione?"

"I hate it."

"We all do, it's so nasty to taste bile early in the morning." Ginny shivered from the memory. "Consolation, after the third month it should end."

Susan smiled green, "Or in my case not really?" Ron rubbed her back, in support.

"Susan, be positive. You'll scare her!" Ginny seethed.

"As if she can undo it, Red," Pansy called a spade a spade. "What do you girls do to ease the problem?"

"A dry biscuit before rising up from the bed? I tried Nux Vomica, but that shite tastes foul, and I stopped." Susan suggested, "Getting out of bed does the trick; roll softly to the side, let your body rise with the help of your arms."

"Don't surge up, it messes with your balance."

"Isn't being pregnant a blessing?" Hermione looked sourly.

"Blaise, my man, there's a common factor here." Draco drew the attention, "We have here four witches, and only yours isn't knocked up." Pansy sent him a deadly look, "I suggest you start to work."

"Repeat those words, and that bun in the oven will be a single child." The joke wasn't appreciated.

"Do you let her speak to me like that, Hermione?"

"I don't see the problem." Her fork flew from one to the other, "It comes in the most inconvenient moment, brings nothing but discomfort, tires you down and I haven't yet experienced any benefits whatsoever." She swallowed before continuing, "Wizards have it so easy, they bang you into the mattress, knock you up - as Draco-dear put it so nicely - and then they watch you retch your guts above the toilet pot and say, 'I'm so sorry.' We obviously see who has the easy job, don't we?"

"What else can I do, Hermione? Honestly, tell me what more do you need?" He looked for support around the table, "Potter, what else do you do for your woman? Weasley, help out a wizard."

"Rub their backs when it hurts, cook for them..." Harry summed up.

Susan huffed, "In Ron's case, it's running to his mum and asking for the leftovers."

"My pumpkin, be happy that I don't cook. My cooking talent is a complete disaster." Hermione recognised Ron's goofy tone, nothing changed after all those years. "My mother doesn't mind, Su, she loves you."

Blaise sought a middle way, "See if I get it right for my mate: rub the back, probably the feet too, cook and get out of their way if your woman has a fit."

Harry shook his head, "I recommend to stay in their way if they have a fit, so they can have a whipping boy. I tried to evade first, it ended in a bigger fury…"

"Get to learn their cravings so you can stock on them, it avoids a trip to a Muggle shoppe in the middle of the night."

"Why Muggle?" Draco was lost there, for a second. He was memorising all the duo said for later use, he wasn't one to turn down free advice, especially from Potter, who was ahead of him with his first toddler.

"Smart arse, when your woman yells after blueberries, where do you find a shoppe in Diagon Alley that's open in the middle of the night and has them?"

Harry was summing up, "Crackers, peaches, strawberries in November…"

Ginny observed between bites, smoothly, "Are you complaining?"

"No, Ginny-love, not at all, just talking to myself." The Slytherins smiled at the exchange, it was apparent who wore the pants.

Zabini was one and all ears, "Muggles have food shoppes open all day and night?"

Hermione stole the last corncob from the plate, "They call them night shops. A smart invention, isn't it?"

"Worth a visit for a late night snack."

"You don't need late night snacks, Blaise. You'll become thick as a slurry." To underline her words, she patted on his abdomen, "These must remain flat." The other witches checked out their partners' belly, aside from Hermione who knew that Draco could rival Blaise in the scale of good-looking. Foremostly, Susan sighed wistfully. Hermione smiled stealthily.

"Call it pre-investigation, for when you need me to run after a craving of yours. Very necessary."

Harry shook his head, "Mate, I'm impressed how you can talk yourself out of trouble."

"Always a Slytherin at heart, brother."

Pansy responded in kindness, "Red, what these blokes fail to understand is how we see through the bullshit they try to sell. Wankers first class if you ask me."

"No need to be rude, love. I only have your well-being in mind. Draco, mate, help me out."

"I'm staying out of it, dig your own grave, bro." Things were fragile by the way they were, he didn't need to push the witches' buttons more than necessary, he had the talent to rile her up effortless.

The main course was traded for a dessert, and Draco saw Hermione spoon the ice cream at an incredible rate.

Harry offered her a chocolate leaf, which she accepted promptly. "Hermione, how is your course progressing?"

"Not at all, Harry. I'm so behind on my reading, and I didn't even start on the few assignments I have. It's frustrating me to no end."

Ginny stole a chunk of Harry's pistachio scoop, "Sister, during your first three months, your plans have to be taken down a notch, accept it."

"Easier said than done, Ginny. Don't you know me at all?"

"Becoming a mother forces you to adjust, wherever you like it or not. Now it's the tiredness, then it will be the volume of your belly, afterwards the sleepless nights and Merlin knows what else. You're alone in this adventure."

"Weaslette, that's not true, I'm going to be a present father." Draco refused to be sidelined in the whole matter.

"Fantastic, but unless you live in with her, you will be absent during the nights, on those heavy days when it all seems too much to bear. Hermione is no superwoman to escape the tendrils of the baby-blues, she'll break down from exhaustion and from the fact that these kids are born without manual of instructions."

"My wife has a point."

"Great, Potter, but you forget that I want to do the right thing. If we aren't planning a wedding at this very moment, it's not my fault."

"Will you all stop talking as if I'm not here?" Hermione burst in anger, "I'm not getting married to you, and you know damn well why. Ginny, I'm not wasting my time to think about the near future as a whole. I'm more concerned about how to survive the present. I have tons of work to do, I have fought hard to be where I am today, and I'm moving forward at snail's pace, which frustrates me. The baby blues as you say, well I'll manage when I hit that stage." She breathed deep in, drying a few escaping tears. "I can't tell you to learn my courses for me, Draco. This morning, you did more than I expected, which for I'm grateful. But please, you all must stop pressuring me into a loveless union." Frustrated, Hermione stood up, "This was nice, we must repeat it in the future, but I'm getting tired by the minute. Till the next time, guys."

"Hermione, I'm taking you home."

"I don't need a bodyguard."

"I'm taking care of you, learn to accept it." He grabbed some floo powder and together they left the Leaky.

-oOo-

Upon arrival, she headed to her kitchen to set some tea with milk. To her surprise, the cabinets were full.

"Did you do this?"

"Did what precisely?"

"My cabinets are full, and I know that they weren't this morning, I was planning on going for groceries tomorrow. So explain how they magically filled themselves."

He missed Blaise's talent right now, "With magic?"

"I don't want your money, and I don't need you to watch over me like a mother hen. Or a dad hen, however they say it."

"Well, princess, I know all that. I know that I fucked you into the mattress - allow me to be precise here: you were the one on the top, and the second round was against the shower wall, but those are details. I know that you'll be the one doing all the work until that baby pops out. I'm not ignorant, princess." He was fuming, aware that she didn't deserve the fury, "I can't do anything to ease the burden, I can't make your fucking assignments or read those tomes in your place. I can't be pregnant in your place, and I can't even make a decent tasting potion against your morning sickness. What I can do is make sure you have enough food to eat, and I didn't do the fucking dishes, Tibby did. Sue me."

"Draco, I'm…"

"I know you're independent, you're used to taking care of yourself and you don't expect that someone puts your needs in the first place. This baby, neither of us planned it, I'm in the dark of how to proceed. Give me a break!" He saw literally her energy run low, "Go to sleep, rest, I'll return tomorrow. At least holding your hair away while your puke gives me a purpose."

He kissed her in the cheek, leaving her behind with more questions than answers.


	6. Bribes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear Marlygrl94 did once more a great job, thank you darling!

##  Chapter 7: Bribes

 

Hermione had barely made it to the toilet, when she felt a pair of hands grasp her hair again. “How did you know?” She spoke between spurts. 

 

“I have Tibby on watch, she’s making a light breakfast as we speak.” After taking the glass of water back from her, he offered her a new vial, “I’ve tried to improve the composition and the taste adding a few more components , will you give it a try please?”

 

Taking his vial silently, she slammed it down her throat, “It’s not perfect yet, but it’s much better than yesterdays, thank you Draco.” Hermione felt a wave of tiredness wash over her, and she leaned against his legs, “I hope this shit disappears soon, I feel less than human every morning.”

 

“What is your plan for today?” 

 

Hermione accepted his offered hand, rising to her feet, “I have two courses in the morning, one in the afternoon, plus one assignment that is due within three days from now and I haven’t read a page.” 

 

She motioned him she wanted to wash her teeth, and he nodded, “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

 

A quarter hour later, she took a seat next to him, nibbling on a buttered toast, as he sipped from a coffee.

 

Draco sat the Prophet away, “I need to negotiate a request from the Italian government, but I can pick you up, have lunch together, accompany you to the next period and make sure that you don’t oversleep after your powernap of ten minutes?”

 

“You make it sound so easy…”

 

“We can try, right?”

 

“We’ll be seen together.”

 

“Only wizards living under a rock don’t know the gossip by now. Hiding from the public isn’t going to make the news go away. What time are you finished?”

 

“By noon.”

 

“Any requests as the place to eat?”

 

“Somewhere quiet.”

 

-oOo-

 

Draco had brought her to the university, and watching the commotion from afar, Hermione expected to see her fellow students fanning over his good looks, even if it was way too early for him to return. It was a break between two periods, and she was taking a breather in the outside atrium.

 

Much to her surprise, it was Lucius who waited for her, standing upright supporting on his cane just for the show. During her last visit, she noticed he didn’t need the aid to walk at all.

 

Her head went in overdrive thinking on the multiple reasons of his arrival, already preparing her possible counterattacks; the man demanded respect but hell would freeze over before she would let him see her scared.

 

“Miss Granger.”

 

“Mr. Malfoy.”

 

“Can I invite you for a cup of tea while we discuss a few matters?”

 

“I have a new period within ten minutes that I don’t want to miss.”

 

“I’m certain one or other witch here will let you copy her notes for you.” Hermione was about to argue, “I insist, Miss Granger. Please don’t make a scene.”

 

Hermione complied to avoid a discussion inside the university's walls, she wanted to keep her excellent impression before her teachers. He offered her an arm, which she accepted seething.

 

At the tea parlour, he ordered a table in the quietest corner. In silence, both waited for the tea with biscuits to appear before Lucius cast a muffliato around their seating.

 

“You can assume why I’m here.” He took his time to appreciate the flavour of his tea while Hermione used it to gather some courage.

 

“I’m torn between your financial offer to accept your son's proposal and your threat to get rid of the baby.”

 

“I’m impressed, Miss Granger. Which of the two wins your preference?”

 

“It’s a draw.” A biscuit gave her fingers something to do, instead of fidgeting.

 

He roared from her honesty, “Still a feisty thing after all these years, I understand why my son feels attracted to you. I will never repeat what I’m about to say, but you remind me of my Narcissa when she had your age. Not afraid to bite back.”

 

It only made Hermione curious about their past, "I do not promise anything."

 

"Miss Granger, I must disappoint you, but you will not hear a threat coming from my mouth to force you into abortion. Your pregnancy has become a public matter, I read this morning a whole page dedicated to the cleverness of your little accident. The majority wonders if it is wise to bring the next Malfoy heir to this world…"

 

“They can go and fuck themselves.” She would not be apologising for her English.

 

“A few…” He continued, ignoring the foulness in her words, “Are sure you tricked my poor son to gain access to the massive Malfoy vaults.”

 

“Some were expressing their own fantasies, I guess. Cursing their inability to bring this idea to fruition.” By the way she bit on her biscuit, Lucius guessed her level of anger. As his son had suspected, this was one of those witches that did it for love and not for personal gain. Like her, not many out there. Again, something she had in common with his wife.

 

“If money can’t seduce you, maybe a considerable donation to a cause that is close to your heart?”

 

“You want to donate an important amount to, let us say, the fund for free wolfsbane for everyone?” She gave him  _ the look _ , as he pretended to consider the idea, “Are you so eager to include a mudblood to your family tree?”

 

"The last time I used that word, I got hexed. I believe it's no longer a publicly-accepted term." The consequences of his wife's hex were still visible on his upper thigh, but he kept that detail to himself, "You'll be part of the family tree, but I would prefer to add you as my son's spouse instead only mentioning you as the mother of next Malfoy scion, with no further tie to the family." He poured her a new cup, serving himself next, "Would my contribution to that admirable cause help you to see clear and accept my son's proposal?"

 

“You really want to call me daughter-in-law?”

 

He looked green for a moment but recovered his features, “Care to explain to me why you don’t want to become my son’s wife?”

 

“I want a husband who loves me, who respects me. Nothing less than that.”

 

“You have already half of your request, I know that my son respects your courage and your magical talent, even if he never said so. Love? As in every wizard union, love comes later.”

 

“Is that how it went between you and Narcissa?”

 

“No, my hellcat hissed so hard she had me at her feet before I realised. On the other hand, I had quite a trouble to show her what a catch I was.”

 

"I understand why she hissed so much." She snorted, "The self-centred is already hard to ignore, but add the arrogance, and you get an impossible combination. I see where Draco gets his git-attitude from." She hit a nerve, obviously, wondering in Narcissa had used the same words. "Not enough. Draco may respect me, much to my surprise, but he doesn't love me. End discussion."

 

“No Malfoy has been born out of wedlock.”

 

“There’s a first time for everything.” She emptied her cup, “I have given you my answer, and I want to return to my classes, I’ve lost enough time.”

 

“I can force you.”

 

“Your son has more to lose if you continue to push me too far. Haven’t you learned your lesson, Mr. Malfoy?” It was the second time she hit a nerve, it seemed. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me, I have another Malfoy to deal with, let us hope I’ve lost some of my tension by the time he arrives.”

 

“I’ll be the one taking you down the aisle.”

 

“You forgot to take your medicine this morning, I believe, Mr. Malfoy, you’re acting delusional. Have a good day.” She never saw his smile. Hermione did remind him too much of Narcissa. At least he knew which advice to give his son now, handling in feisty witches is something he had experience in.  _ I only have to get used to the idea of a mud-muggle born daughter-in-law _ , he thought, remarking at the same time that if he had to add one, his son had been a smart bloke for securing the best exemplary in their community.

 

-oOo-

 

Narcissa saw her husband arrive through the Floo, a goading smile still plastered on his face.

 

“What did you do?”

 

"Why do you always think the worse of me?" He tried to show her a stricken face, but  _ who was he trying to fool? _

 

“You can’t keep your long fingers away from an issue for so long… Spill your beans so I can think of a way to keep your son’s anger at bay.”  _ When will he learn? _

 

"I did nothing which might have caused trouble, my dear. I simply tested the waters." Trying another tactic, he kissed her gently on the cheek, "I must say, our family will be increased with a fierce witch. I'm relieved to learn that our grandson, despite his blood status, will be a mighty wizard, possessing the extraordinary talents from both his parents." Narcissa searched for a sign that he was mocking the whole business. Her surprise grew when she found none.

 

“I took our son’s witch for a cuppa, using my best persuasion to accept a bribe and become his wife.”

 

“Money won’t work, Draco is certain. He told me she’s cut from another wood if I recall his words well.” From a point, it annoyed her that he still tried to use his old tactics to force a solution; on the other hand, it pleased her to know that Hermione had a spine, as Draco suspected.

 

“I believe there are still incorruptible people in this world…”

 

“Don’t count yourself in that group, Lucius. That’s stretching the truth.”

 

“You still haven't lost your feisty attitude, have you?” Her lips were begging to be kissed, “Miss Granger wants to marry for love, money isn’t a priority… I honestly didn’t think those witches still existed.” The new hex was probably going to leave a new scar also, wincing from the pain.

 

“I didn’t marry you for your vaults did I?”

 

"No, you married me for my self-centered nature combined with arrogance, and let me think what else Miss Granger added... she described it as an impossible combination. Adding that she recognised Draco's git-attitude in my posture."

 

“The more I hear, the more I believe that I’ll like Miss Granger. I don’t see where she’s wrong, though. It is a very annoying quality from the Malfoy men, I hope she prevents it from being transmitted to our grandson.” She smiled slyly as a fox, “Will you employ any other intelligent attempts to sway her over?”

 

“No, I’ll give our son some insights on how to win her heart.”

 

That comment made her eyebrows raise, “Is that so?”

 

“I did win yours, my dear…”

 

“You are a git, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy.”

 

“Correction, love. I’m your git.” He stole her tea before walking away to his study. Think of strategies to soften the mud- muggleborns belief in him, it could only help Draco’s case.

 

-oOo-

 

Again, a commotion at the atrium, a few female students were fanning themselves at the sight of such a good looking wizard,  _ he’s so handsome… _

 

She walked casually towards him, handbag full of books over her shoulder, “This has to stop, it’s the invasion of the Malfoy men. You’re causing havoc.”

 

“I don’t get it, Hermione,” He took the bag over, surprised to feel a featherlight weight on such a packed backpack, “I only arrived moments ago.”

 

“It’s the second Malfoy to visit this university today. I didn’t think Law interested the likes of your family.”

 

“Have mercy with me and please, tell me what the hell are you talking about?”

 

"Your father paid me a visit." She felt pleasure at his immediate fury, "He offered to donate a considerable amount to a cause of my choice if I would accept becoming your Mrs. Malfoy."

 

“And?” He seethed, planning on having a men-talk with his father later that day.

 

“I hope the cause can forgive me. I declined.” That last was delivered with a chin-jerk. “Where are we eating? I’m famished…”

 


	7. Disagreements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New 2019!
> 
> Wishing the best to my fantastic readers, and to my amazing beta Marlygrl94, who's expecting a baby!
> 
> In this chapter, no house-elves were hurt.

 

**Chapter 8: Disagreements**

"Father." Narcissa smiled at the snappy tone, hoping to see her son stand up to his meddling father.

"Son."

"Why did you visit Granger?"

"Just a polite meeting between a new family member. Testing the waters."

"Polite?"

"Has the witch in question told you something else?"

"I want to hear your version, don't slither yourself out of the conversation. Again, polite?"

"Draco, I took her to a tea parlour, we had a nice chat, and I have to say, your mud- muggle born witch has charmed me. I must agree with you, she has a spine." Despite considering himself on the roust like a youngster, Lucius felt pride in the way Draco rose up.

"Go on…"

"Son, it's an embarrassment to our family to have an heir born out of wedlock. I'm beyond his blood status, realising that the witch and you will add a powerful lineage to our bloodline." He fought the urge to roll his eyes, "I tried to see if Miss Granger could be bribed." Draco's eyebrows hid under his fringe, mouth drawn in a line, "Which she can't, as you said she wouldn't. Instead, she called me a self-centred and arrogant, recognising my treats in your attitude."

Draco had trouble keeping a stern face. Narcissa forwent of decorum and giggled.

"I advise you to keep pushing her buttons in a non-offensive way and woo this woman. I drove your mother nuts before she caved in."

"Son, forget your father's imbecile advice, definitely considering her delicate state."

"What is your advice then, mother? I own natural talent to rile her up, it happens effortlessly."

"I feel I'm repeating myself, Draco. Show her the man you are."

"No, son. Rile her up, drive her nuts, make her go bananas by just looking at you all the while you make yourself irresistible."

"Lucius!"

"That's how I got your attention, my dear. If I had acted like a bloody Hufflepuff, I would have lost you to that Selwyn arse." Draco got the insight of a unique moment in his parents' life. How they met and how his father won his mother's heart was a chapter unknown to him.

"Be supportive, Draco. Try to be friendly to her friends to earn their trust, even with that Weasley boy… Show her my Draco."

"Be present at every corner and don't let her push you into a corner, son."

"I think I'll decide by myself what's the best course." A little more and he imagined his mother jumping on his father's' bones to teach him a lesson. Not a sight he wanted to witness. The fact he left the room and none of the two noticed, confirmed his gut-feeling.

It left him, however, with more questions than answers. There wasn't a book who could teach him how to deal with a stubborn muggleborn, and he wasn't yet that kind of friendly with Potter to ask him for some inklings.

A floo-call from Ireland demanded his immediate attention, Hermione temporarily shoved to the back of his head.

-oOo-

Hermione didn't hear or see Draco for more than a week, but his presence was felt. She ended with a massive stash of anti-nausea vials he enhanced in taste and composition, swapping the nux vomica for a few less dangerous ingredients. In a handwritten parchment he sent with the batch, he explained to have run into a few books which elaborated how unwise it was to use the pure essence of the plant against pregnancy-induced nausea.

It surprised her to read that he had conferred with Neville and Madam Pomfrey to that extent, brewing a new mix all together. Hermione attributed several points reluctantly to the Slytherin for his constant pursuit.

Further, he had instructed Tibby to become her personal wake-up call. The elf would wake her up after a power nap of thirty minutes - the blond had decided that five wasn't enough - instructions the creature followed punctually.

Where Draco might allow her five more minutes, the sergeant Tibby didn't. Orders were orders…

Moreover, the sergeant on duty brought her fruit daily, tea and a warm dinner despite the brunette's interjections. "Little Master needs to be a strong baby, yous must eat!"

Each plate smelled mouth-watering, and she attacked knowing how she felt about House-elves. Tibby even made sure it was eaten until the last crumble, "Nice of yous, Missus."

Her cabinets were always refilled, the dishes were done before she could rise from her chair and her whole house was cleaned.

"Tibby, I don't want you to take care of my household."

"Is Missus angry at Tibby?"

"Oh, Merlin." The trembling lip almost made Hermione sob with the elf, "No, I'm not angry at you, Tibby. I don't need you to take care of my house."

"But Tibby loves cleaning and cooking. Tibby changes nappies too!" It was Dobby all over again, with his pleading eyes. "Missus, please?"

"Do you let me pay you?"

"No, no, no! Tibby gets moneys from Master Draco. Master Draco says to take good care of Missus Minny and the baby and gives Tibby moneys to buy clothes. Do yous like my dress, Missus?"

"It's lovely!" In fact, it was a horrible colour combination, yellow dress, rosy pants and green cardigan. But she didn't have the heart to tell the truth.

But thanks to Tibby's help and her merciless wake-up calls, Hermione finally got some work done, submitting an important essay just in time. She caught up with some of her reading - not all, the backlog was quite extensive - and felt slightly more energetic than before. The combination of the vitamin vials, decent sleep and food were doing its miracle work.

What she didn't know was that Draco came every night, tucked her in and made sure she came nothing short. He was the one keeping her cabinets full, and an extra stash of the candy and olives she liked to devour. He was the one to give Tibby the household tasks and not allow a no for an answer.

And outside her knowledge, he achieved in getting some extended due dates for her assignments, by going straight to her teachers and arguing his case. For now, it was all he could do. Thankfully, her teachers understood and cooperated with him, keeping his involvement a secret and communicating only with her the change of deadlines, using a stealthy muffliato when doing so.

-oOo-

It was Friday, almost two o'clock and Hermione paced nervously in the ob's waiting room. Draco promised to come, alas no sight of him yet.

"Miss Granger, please come in." The healer-nurse called her inside.

Hermione huffed. No owl to let her know he couldn't make it, no message from Tibby either. His first appearance was, in fact, a no-show.

The nurse closed the door but was held back by a male hand, "I'm sorry, the Irish Minister kept pulling my sleeve." Draco was panting, his hair a mess. Between puffs, his hand tried to bring his tresses into a model. "It's the last time I'm accepting a floo-call on an appointment day."

"It's okay," Hermione couldn't hide her guilty face, she was rather quick in her judgment. "I've just entered."

A few medical checks revealed an improved blood pressure and a few other pointers, the healer happy to see Hermione with more vitality than two weeks ago.

"Let's make an acquaintance with your baby, shall we?" The obstetrician set up the ultrasound device, "I must admit that our Muggle colleagues have a better appliance to make this intrauterine checks, our spells don't give us sound with the image." The cold cream made her shiver, but soon two pairs of eyes were glued on the screen.

"Ah, your little baby is a little bigger now, see?" It was the image of a little astronaut, floating in the air, "A quite mobile one, but it's his right. Between this and a few months, he won't have the room for it." The man chuckled, but no one reacted. Both mesmerised at the white a black blurry picture. The healer smiled fondly.

The next reaction was also a predictable one. The fluttering on the screen sounded like a speed train, the little heart thumping hard, "A healthy heartbeat too…"

"So fast?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. The foetus' heartbeat is a pretty quick one. It's an excellent sign." The measurements of the head and the upper thigh confirmed the presumed date of pregnancy, "As I first calculated, you are now in your eight weeks, Miss Granger. Another four and we can assume to be out of the danger from a miscarriage."

A male hand found hers and squeezed.

"There you go, we'll set a new appointment for within three weeks unless you feel anything suspicious." Hermione didn't find her voice and nodded instead.

One thing was knowing that you carried life inside you, the other is actually see it move; see it bounce inside your womb as his personal playground.

What followed happened in a blur, before she knew it, they were both back on the street. "It's almost lunch hour, do you want to grab a bite together?"

"Sounds good."

He apparated with her to Muggle London, guiding her to a little Italian bistro. "An Italian Ministry employee told me about this place a while ago. They serve delicious food, and it's not really known among Wizards. We should be able to talk."

The establishment couldn't be more genuine to its roots, with white and red checked tablecloth, and small flower arrangements on the table. They ordered drinks and perused the menu, using the memento of silence to decide what to say.

"It's quite…"

"I'm impressed…"

They spoke simultaneously, and Draco motioned her to talk first, "It's quite cosy here, I like the place."

"It has its charms, and last time I met the  _mama_  who told me I look too thin for my health."

"The Italian version of Mrs. Weasley," Hermione smirked, "Why did you assign Tibby to me?"

"Is she doing something wrong?" The drinks arrived, and both sipped.

"No, but I don't need housekeeping. She barely lets me do anything in the house. You know how I think about house elves."

"It's public knowledge. Listen, you can use the help. Accept it, thank me for it, if you wish, but don't bug my ears about it every time we meet, I'm not changing my stance. Is the potion helping?"

"It is, thank you. Draco, I…"

"Every moment of peace last week was spent thinking about the baby and us. You are asking me to adjust, but I don't know how." He rose his hands lightly from the table. "How do you see us?"

"I don't know. All of this comes so fast together. My studies, being pregnant, you being the father."

"Do you regret it?"

"What do you mean?" The steamy pasta broke their conversation for a moment or two.

"The fact that I'm the father."

"Draco, let's not do this."

"I'm honestly curious…" This might probably be his biggest hurdle, having no clue how she thought of him.

"What do you want me to say? That I hate you? It's not the case. Are we each other's biggest friends? Absolutely not."

"Do you blame me for what happened with my aunt?"

"Since when? You weren't the one holding the blade."

"But I stood by and did nothing."

"What could you have done, Draco? Be honest? What could you have done without jeopardising your life? I didn't see you laugh or feel happy when I was tortured on the floor of your home. You weren't exactly cheering her on." Hermione rolled some of her carbonaras onto her fork and tasted it carefully, testing its heat. It was still too hot, and she had to fan some cold air.

Draco had pushed his ravioli away, hunger had vanished, "I still have nightmares, sometimes. Now more than I used to. I don't even know how to ask you for forgiveness."

"There's nothing to forgive, it was war, and we got caught in a fight that wasn't ours to deal with."

"I treated you horribly in Hogwarts."

"There's a thing you could apologise for, your behaviour before the war. What followed wasn't your doing, you were a youngster like me, forced to do things neither of us wanted to do."

"Can you forgive me?"

"I can." She focussed on her food, pointing out to him to do the same. It was silent for a few minutes, her eyes roaming over the other guests and the life outside. He kept an eye on her, judging her mood.

"The sound of the heartbeat was amazing." Hermione broke the silence.

"Surprising, considering the baby is so small." He cleared his throat, "Can I ask you a favour?"

"You can always ask.."

"I need to go to this dinner, for the Ministry in two days, and I would like you to accompany me. It has to do with negotiations we are closing up."

"Draco, that implies that we are together."

"We can show that we are united, and I could use a buffer against unwanted attention. Some witches forget their manners."

"Can't you deal with some female attention? I recall a time where you paraded with a girl at your arm…"

"When I was a stupid teenager. But when the wife of a certain minister is giving you a once-over, it stops being fun."

"You need me as your bodyguard?"

"I want you at my side. No labels." Plates were cleared and the dessert suggestion cards offered. "They have here a great chocolate  _pannacotta_."

"You had me at chocolate. I don't know if it's a good idea, people will ask questions."

"Forget my offer then, I'll be fine." He was tempted to use his father's advice, being a softy wasn't working.

"I'll go with you, what's the dress code?"

"Formal, if you want I can take you to Madam Malkin's for a suitable dress."

"Us together at Diagon Alley and the gossip is unstoppable."

"I'm not ashamed to be seen with you."

-oOo-

They skipped coffee, and he brought her back to her house, surprised to see some leaflets of a local estate firm.

"Are you looking for a new place?"

"This is too small for a baby. For just me, it's fine, but a baby needs its own room after a certain time…"

"What do you have in mind?"

"No Manors. If possible something with a garden, I'll have to look into my assets first to determine my budget."

"I can afford it."

"We are not having this type of conversation, Draco. I feel like I'm always on repeat."

"I'm making sure the mother of my son is in a good place to live, which also brings benefits to him. I don't see the problem."

"The problem is that I feel no better than all the slags you've dated, who had your vaults in mind."

"This is different."

"It's more of the same."

"I don't fucking care, Hermione. I have more money than a person can spend in a lifetime. It won't hurt if I help you find a suitable place for my son to grow up in."

"I don't want it, Draco. I want to do it on my own, as I have always done, can't you see it?"

"What are the odds for me to bang the most stubborn witch on earth?"

"Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, you were the one stroking your dick as a prized possession. You never covered yourself."

"Why should I? I'm proud of my body. On the other hand, you returned to impale yourself on my cock…"

"YOU! … YOU!" Hermione looked around, and found a pillow, "Out of my house!"

"Calm down witch!" Another pillow hit him square in the face, "Knock it off!" Thanks to his reflexes he ducked before one of her books struck him.

"Out of my house before I hex your arse!"

"Think of the baby, Granger!"

"I hate you!" The last projectile she found was the thick tome on Ancient Laws. She grabbed it, aiming it at his deviating position, "Out of my house and take your goddamn money with you, Ferret!"

"What about the dinner?"

"I hope one of those bints harass you the entire night!" Book in hand, she drew her arm as a threat. She shrieked, "OUT!"

The book hit on her front door. He had vanished just in time.

Empty, she let herself lower to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

The tapping of a small foot on the ground made her look up. Tibby was looking down on her, hands on her hips, disapproving. "Yous not nice to Master Draco."

"I didn't ask for your advice, Tibby."

"Tibby does not like to see Master Draco hurt."

"He is not hurt!"

"Yous threw books and pillows at Master Draco!"

"He deserved it. Mr I-have-too-much-money!"

"Master Draco only wants to do good, Missus Minny."

"Why am I having this conversation with a creature half my size?"

"Yous are not nice, yous have to apologise."

"When the hell freezes over! Now, shoo!"


	8. Losing your Wit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed for you by my lovely Marlygrl94, thank you, sweetie!

* * *

**Chapter 9: Losing your wit**

She didn't hear from him a whole day, and it ate her alive.

Once the fury settled, the remorse viciously kicked her in the gut. Draco had done nothing to deserve her anger. But it seemed as if her emotional breakdown came with delay. When she learned she was pregnant, Hermione accepted the fact and tried to keep a levelled head, seek a way to deal with the unexpected reality, for a way to ensure that her son would have a mother and a father in his life, even if they weren't together as a couple.

Now, she wanted him at her side, holding her hair back during her daily rendez-vous with her bathroom - hell, did she hate morning sickness. At other moments she was pleased not to see his handsome face in the neighbourhood, especially when she knew the assignments were due and she barely wrote a letter on the damned parchment.

At the moment she was drowning in guilt. Hermione attended her lessons dutifully, paying the necessary attention. Excuse me, the accurate version is: she tried to pay attention, faked heed and acknowledge memorising not one single spoken word.

The focus was playing hide-and-seek. A word would enter her mind one second but evade the next. Instead, Draco's voice invaded her thoughts, increasing that guilt feeling in her heart.

The bell rang announcing the end of the day, she exited on automatic pilot towards the floo and headed home. When he shows up, I'll apologise first thing. Then ask him to help me choose a decent outfit for the event.

The problem was, he never showed up at all.

-oOo-

Neither did he hold her hair the next morning, while she puked her guts out. Pushing her deeper in the hole she dug for herself.

Hermione had waited the whole evening sitting on the couch, later lying down for a short nap, and ultimately, ending up spending the night and waking up roughly on the ground after a turn in the wrong direction.

The familiar emergency race to her toilet took longer than usual - as she came from a further starting point than she normally did - and some of her guts spilt into her hand, making her more desperate than she already was.

Cranky from an uncomfortable night, the umpteenth episode of morning sickness and the little devil on her shoulder - in the shape of a judging Tibby - told her she was too harsh on him, Hermione headed to her kitchen to set the kettle up, in an incredibly bad mood.

But, the heavens weren't cooperating, and instead of pouring water into her cup, she aimed half of the hot stream over her hand, which led to a sharp reaction and the mug falling on the floor, splashing the few bits of water all over the ground.

Hermione screamed her lungs out and cracked completely. She stared at her hand, as if her tears could heal her burnt skin, and disapparated in panic, freaking the shit out Lucius and Narcissa, the pair absolutely not expecting to see a distressed witch in the middle of their breakfast nook, dressed in her flimsy homewear.

She did nothing to hide her puffy face when she addressed them, hiccuping, "Where's Draco?"

"Upstairs, fifth door on the right." Narcissa answered, blinking, "But, Hermione-"

The witch didn't wait for the next words and marched up the stairs which seemed to not end. On the top floor, she ran counting entrances and stopped at the fifth, opening the heavy door without a previous knock.

Draco froze, his hand midair on its way to dry his hair on the towel, while a bigger cloth covered his waist.

"I'm sorry…I was wrong... and I burned my hand... I slept on the couch hoping you would come… and I don't know what to wear for tonight…"

Draco threw the hand towel onto his bed and crossed the few feet of distance to envelop the distressed brunette in his arms, "Hey, calm down, Hermione."

Her arms wrapped around his torso, hands in a fist, the face seeking the crease of his neck for solace, "I know you want to help… I shouldn't have thrown things at you…"

"Shh, Hermione. It's okay." Draco recovered from his surprise, after all, this wasn't a daily event, a crying witch invading in his bedroom after his morning shower. Instantly, his biggest concern was to soothe the woman, one he seldom saw loose her calm. Her tears left trails of wetness down his bare chest, but those were small details.

The problem was that he enjoyed holding her frame against him. The feeling that she belonged there woke up, along with the knowledge that he was alone on this plane of thoughts.

He pushed her slightly away, both hands shoving the curls around her face, "Take a deep breath for me." She did as told, shaking. "Have you eaten breakfast?"

"No, I burnt my hand while filling my mug for a teacup."

It wasn't only whining, he thought watching the red swollen spot on the back of her hand, she did burn herself. He took her hand in his bigger one, "Woman, this is a serious burn, have you taken care of it?" His brain was already thinking ahead, remembering which healing step he needed to take, "This must be hurting…"

Her chin began to tremble again as she nodded.

Draco dragged her into his ensuite, accioed a pair of boxers on the way; the towel around his waist had slid away, but this wasn't the moment to parade in his Adam's costume. The cold stream of the water soothed her pain visibly and he summoned Tibby to ask for the burn salve.

Gently, he applied a thick layer, wrapping her hand next, "Do you need a pain potion?"

"I don't know what I can use safely. It's okay, it's not hurting that much anymore."

"Tibby!" A pop followed, "Ask our personal healer for a pain potion approved for pregnant witches." The elf narrowed her eyes towards Hermione, tsk'ing, but promptly abided the command.

"Let me get dressed, and we'll go for breakfast downstairs." He pushed her forward to his bed, and made her sit. "You have to eat, Hermione. Then we'll go to Madam Malkins and find you something suitable for tonight. After that, we'll pop up by that local estate and see what they have in the portfolio."

She nodded at every suggestion, still numb from her break-down.

"Look at me." He sat before her, "I know that you don't want to feel like you're taking advantage of me. We can make a deal. I'll lend you the money you need, and if it makes you feel better, you repay me at your own pace once you're stable enough to do so." The thumb dried the tears with a stroke, "How does it sound?"

"It sounds good." This wasn't the witch he was used to. The spark was apparently turned off.

"Perfect, now let us join my Mother and Father downstairs and feed our son."

-oOo-

Two pairs of eyes followed the new arrivals cautiously. Narcissa was relieved to see the witch now more tranquil, though not yet recovered to a healthy state. Whatever had happened between the two, hadn't again been smoothed over, by the looks.

The herbal tea appeared in front of the younger witch, plus a few healthy choices of breakfast. Narcissa guessed that Hermione might prefer a yoghurt and a toast instead of the greasy eggs and bacon Draco devoured, much to her distaste.

The blonde witch was, alas, at a loss about a safe subject to approach.

Her husband, on the contrary, wasn't, "Have you calmed your nerves, Miss Hermione? Your surprise appearance caused quite a distress to my daily routine. I forgot where I was reading, because of you."

The sassy remark seemed to have an effect, "Are you a ray of sunshine every day?"

Narcissa smirked, "Always."

"I admire your strength, Narcissa."

"It comes with the years, dear. You'll learn." She dipped the corner of her mouth, "He barks louder than he bites, you know?"

Hermione looked between mother and son, asking a silent question. Draco gave her a raised eyebrow as an answer.

"Your Draco isn't a full copy of my Lucius, Hermione. Perhaps, it doesn't need to come to it."

"Are you aware I'm standing right here, while you are discussing my persona?" Lucius was nothing less than polite while stating his displeasure.

"See what I mean? He loves to be the centre of attention unless it's about revealing his lesser qualities."

"Mother, we're going to visit Madam Malkins. Hermione will be joining me tonight, attending the dinner with the Italian Prime-Minister." Hermione whimpered, until then ignorant about how important tonight's event in fact was. Her hairdo wasn't appropriate enough, and she doubted if Ginny was home to help her. Another matter to make her panic.

"Madam Malkins will certainly have something appropriate, tell her to show you the exclusive collection. Hermione, your belly isn't showing yet and doesn't require an adjustment at the waist. Make sure you visit my hairdresser afterwards, to help you with your hair. I'll give Giorgio a heads up." Narcissa faced the witch, "Unless you think it's too forward of me, to suggest so."

"No, Narcissa. Draco forgot to tell me about the Italian Prime-Minister's attendance. Honestly, I was already panicking about my hair."

"Hermione, I want you to ask me for help if you need anything. Draco is just a boy…" she corrected herself after an offended huff, "A man, my excuses. He knows barely a thing about women issues like hair, make-up, and so on… I'm more than happy to assist you." She patted softly on the younger witches hand, "Though, I trust him with his good taste in choosing something elegant for you to wear tonight."

"My suggestion would be that little designer in Paris, but I guess no one is interested in my opinion," Lucius spoke from behind the edge of his cup.

"I don't have an international portkey lying around, Lucius. I can't go in a jiffy to the city of lights."

"Draco can. He can use our Floo to our French property which is at apparition distance from Paris. But I'm sure you're not interested in my valuable input." Lucius' nails received an up-close inspection.

"Father, let go of the annoying behaviour. What are you suggesting? We go to Paris and visit which boutique?"

"Your Mother's favourite, Madame Chanel? After that you enjoy a nice lunch at your favourite bistro, return for a visit to your mother's hairdresser and make the most striking appearance at that diner with whoever that pasta lover is." Lucius folded the Prophet with a loud crack and much theatre, "That is, if my opinion matters to any of you. It's only me, you know. The arrogant, self-centred git."

"Narcissa, someone is complaining from the lack of attention." Hermione faced the witch with puppy eyes.

"I haven't pat on his head today, nor told him that he's a good boy." Speaking of a dramatic eye roll. "However, I do agree with my husband, Hermione. Madame Chanel has amazing exclusive designs, and at that bistro Draco loves so much, they serve the most succulent chicken with pasta… you must try their mousse au chocolat… absolutely divine."

"I leave it up to you, Hermione. Diagon Alley or the Eiffel Tower?" The answer was readable on her shimmering eyes, "How's your Français, mademoiselle?"

"Merci, s'il vous plait and merde. Is it enough?" Hermione gave him a taste of her French knowledge.

"I'll do the talking."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't those the first three words we learn in a foreign language? (Aside from I love you, but it's not the moment...) *wink*


	9. Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by my angel Marlygrl94

“Wow. I feel like Cinderella.”

Her mouth fell open upon arrival through the floo into the drawing room of the  _ Chateau _ , with its floor to ceiling windows and, in the distance, a fairy-tallish pond. The golden details in the bright walls gave the whole room a spacious feel, the wooden floor blinking of the polish.

“Who’s that witch?”

“A Muggle fairytale, Draco. I feel like a princess inside the castle with the prince on the white horse. The type of romance you probably don’t know about.”

“I don’t own horses, is a broomstick also acceptable?” Draco silently offered her an arm and took her on a tour around the castle, a property of the Malfoy family for quite a few generations. Personally, he preferred the gardens at the Manor over these French valleys, yet he could see the appeal.

“How often do you come here?” The one room was more amazing than the previous. She was hardly able to take it all in, the ballroom, probably bigger than her little apartment alone, was so full of sunlight. It felt inviting.

“Not so much, I prefer England. My mother and father use the property regularly when they want to spend some time roaming in the streets of Paris. I have the feeling that I’m not allowed to touch.”

"It's the perfect place to play hide and seek." The four-poster bed in the master bedroom was one straight out of those Disney movies she loved to watch. The bathroom and its vintage bath on legs made the prefects bathroom at Hogwarts look basic. Golden faucets, fluffy white towels, and an array of bath oils in lovely glass bottles were at display on a nearby vanity and demanded the attention. Honestly, Hermione could see herself taking a bath, a leg over the side, enjoying the outside view - the sky with a single cloud and the green valley at a distance.

“Hermione?” Her behaviour was endearing to watch, he was tempted to propose a weekend stay and let her savour the property.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I was dreaming.”

“If you’ll allow me…” He offered a side-apparition to the known location, walking nearly blindly to his mother’s favourite Parisian boutique.

“Monsieur Malfoy,  _ quel plaisir _ !” The theatrical welcoming was too much for her taste, but it told Hermione just how good a customer Narcissa must be. It was, after all,  _ What a pleasure! _

"Bonjour," He greeted her with a kiss on the palm, decorum was mandatory in this place, "Madame Chanel, may I introduce you to Miss Hermione Granger. We are going tonight to an extraordinary event, and I want her to wear the perfect outfit." Draco switched to English, "Can you show us a few of your most beautiful creations?"

Hermione bet if the woman bowed deeper, she would remain forever bent. His gesture concerning the spoken language was a nice touch. Her French was really basic, and Draco could speak at the same speed as a Frenchman, which was for a foreigner too fast for understanding.  _ Another mark on the Draco’s list of good qualities _ , she thought,  _ he was considerate. _

The woman returned with her arms full of dresses, in different colours and fabrics. It gave Hermione literally the goosebumps, she hated shopping for clothing, unlike perusing in a bookstore.

Flicking her wand, the woman lined up her treasures, and Draco gave his first once-over, dismissing immediately those who weren't of his taste. He knew Hermione was at her most beautiful in warm natural colours, and he narrowed it to three designs which would emphasise her beauty even with her soon-to-expand waist.

Strangely enough, his boldness didn't annoy Hermione. There was for a second, an initial irritation, yet instead, she found herself agreeing with what he rejected, and recognised the appeal of the remaining items. She was going to decline the same pieces if given a chance.

At last, he addressed her, “I guess one of these three will be perfect. Try them on, and please, let me see them.”

“Oh, I thought for a second you were going to direct me which I was forced to choose.”  _ There, she said it anyway. _ Her hands grabbed her favourite. A full-length gown in dusty rose chiffon with a high neck and open back details, hugging her feminine shape perfectly. Worthy of a Princess.

She came from behind the curtain, and the little woman applauded enthusiastically, claiming to fit her like a glove.

His grey eyes roamed over her figure silently, and handed over the second hanger.

Hiding once more inside the fitting room, she traded the chiffon for a glossy dress in an entirely different style than the previous. This long dress had a short-sleeved lace layer up to the waist draped over a dark chocolate shoulderless gown, with ruches at the waist to flatten any stomach. It wasn't merely beautiful, it was beyond elegant.

The reaction was, nevertheless, similar to the first. Overly dramatic applause, and a silent appraisal which left her wondering which of the two he preferred. 

She picked the last hanger and closed the curtain. Navy chiffon this time, the round neck full of diamond embellishments, which also covered the waistband. Her shoulders and back were bare till halfway, the keyhole at the chest gave it the finishing touch for a feminine neckline.

Three completely different dresses, all three of them top notch elegance, giving her the royalty feeling like the pink dress she wore at the Yule Ball. This time she ignored the noises coming from the other woman and gave the obligatory turn under the scrutinising glare of her companion.

“I don’t know what to choose.”

“We will take them all.”

“I can’t afford all three.” His warning gaze didn’t stop her from disputing, “Draco!”

“I’m not letting you pay, you can argue as much as you wish. Honestly, I assumed that two of the three garments would fit you the best, but you look perfect in all of them. You’re the kind of woman who makes a man feel proud to have at his arm. There will be more events to follow for you to parade your beauty at my side.” He signalled the designer to pack in as usual, “Madame Chanel, charge it to the Malfoy account.”

“Draco!” She whimpered.

“For once, shut up. This is me gifting you something, accept it like a good girl and stop bickering. Can’t you stop fighting me at every corner?” 

She could read on his face that continuing to bicker was useless. Grunting, she entered the fitting room, changed into her own clothes and handed over the last dress to the saleswoman, “This was not my intention.”

“Duly noted. Now, let us visit a little bit of Paris before we head to the bistro.”

-oOo-

He walked them through the busy streets, leading her to the Eiffel tower not far ahead. Both caught in their own thinking, however, the subject was similar. 

Draco reviewed the sight she formed in the three garments. The dusty rose brought the memories back of the fourth year when he realised for the first time what a beauty she was. Pansy had pulled at that moment hard on his arm, fully in vain, his attention was entirely concentrated on the Muggleborn. Damn, was he jealous of Viktor Krum.

The dark brown dress blended perfectly with her complexion and her brown curls. The lighter tones of the lacy layer broke the monotony flawlessly and gave her something of royalty. It shoved his favourite to the side, the navy with all its diamond embellishments. The most elegant of the three, he had thought at first.

Yet, it was the luxurious look on her that confirmed his decision. The round neck close to her throat, the bare shoulders, the keyhole giving him a glimpse into her nice cleavage - the expansion wasn't limited to her waist, he learned. 

He knew she would draw the attention. Tonight, and at any other event they would attend together. With her natural beauty and intelligence, she was by far the most attractive woman. The complete opposite of a brainless Astoria, pretty on the outside if covered with enough smudge. 

Hermione was inside and out beautiful, and he was the lucky bastard holding her arm. 

A man would feel proud for a lot less.

Hermione ruminated over one single statement,  _ you can parade your beauty. _ Not once had Ron said such to her - it took him nearly four years to discover she was a girl, remember? The following failures in her love life claimed that she looked nice, but Draco was the first to say she was beautiful, that he was proud to have her at his side. She. Not a brainless pureblood witch. She and no other.

Lucius had mentioned that Draco respected her. A comment she dismissed as one of the many cheap statements like so many. Yet, today’s events made her believe that, maybe, Lucius was right. Maybe Draco did respect her. Her, the mudblood, the annoying know-it-all that got up the sack after a more than nice one-night-stand.

She had to stop being stubborn and allow him closer. Stop harassing him, as his behaviour up until now gave her no reason for such a reaction.  _ In case of need, I can always hex him if he steps out of line. _

-oOo-

They reached the highest platform at the Eiffel Tower, one that was exclusive for the very selected few. The Malfoy family held such privilege, of course. The view from that point was breathtakingly impressive, with the river  _ Seine  _ in the background.

On the downside, it was also quite windy at such height, and Hermione shivered slightly. Almost immediately she was wrapped inside of warm robes, carrying his perfume. She snuggled deeper inside, breathing in its scent. 

He remained close by, shoulders brushing. Silent.

Draco kept his gaze fixed on her. Memorising how her eyes tried to take it all in, the glass pyramid, the symbol of the Louvre museum. The  _ Notre-Dame Cathedral _ surrounded by water; The  _ Arc de Triomphe,  _ the renowned landmark of Napoleon’s conquests.

An hour of Paris clearly wasn't enough, and he stored the thought in his mind for a later opportunity. To be her guide in the city of light.

-oOo-

The steamy plate  _ boeuf bourguignon _ was half devoured. Instead of the creamy chicken Narcissa had promoted, Hermione chose the day’s special, picking out the little onions at first - they were divine!

Cleaning the corner of his mouth, he waited for the question burning in her mind since the start of the meal, “Shoot, Hermione.”

“Which dress should I wear tonight? What’s tonight's event anyway? Should I know anything important to avoid a critical mistake and ruin the entire evening?”

“Witch, I expected one question, not a whole train.” He chuckled, this was also Hermione Granger, “Wear the dark blue tonight. We will be meeting the Italian Wizarding Prime-Minister, about the Quidditch world cup.”

"Oh, bloody hell. I'm the worst fan you could find to promote the sport."

“You watched every game back at Hogwarts!”

“To support Harry, what else?”

“I forgot about Saint Potter, how stupid of me.” He shoved the plate to the side, rolling his eyes at her answer.

“What is it about World Cup and the Italians?”

“It’s time for us to host the world cup again; since the war the other countries have refused us such. We need the Italian vote to achieve our opportunity.”

“How many votes do you need?”  _ Ha, Hermione Granger promoting Quidditch, unseen! Wait until Harry hears it. _

“Out of the sixteen? At least three more, Italy is willing to talk, and things look good between us, the Germans and Bulgaria.”

“Bulgaria?”

“Yes, it seems Viktor Krum has quite a voice inside the Bulgarian Committee.”

“I still owl with him from time to time, he’s a good friend.” Her friendly suggestion sparked a flare of jealousy inside his heart. “I can always do a good word for you if you want.”

“I don’t think it will be necessary, as I said, it’s looking good.” He ground his jaw.

"If you see him at any event, tell him I said hi." His nod was contrary to his thoughts, there was no way he would bring them together.  _ Imagine the consequences… _

“We should return, Mother’s hairdresser is waiting for us.” 

“But I wanted to try the chocolate dessert.” Sadness clouded her features.

“Oh well, I guess he can wait another thirty minutes.” Hermione brightened completely, pushing away his dark mood. 

He appreciated her company, her genuine enthusiasm appealed to him and the fact that she was concerned about tonight's importance, confirmed once more that, to her, this wasn't one of those society's events where you learned about the hottest gossip. She knew that one wrong word could undo years of groundbreaking work, another testament to her brightness. She was indeed so much more than a beautiful appearance.

 

It incited him into thinking.


	10. Manors and Farmhouses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by my angel Marlygrl94, as always thank you, love.

**Chapter 11: Manors and Farmhouses**

Draco had expected some attention upon arrival, but not this. An entire room going silent.

He understood why, though. He was the Malfoy heir, willing or not still a name that rung a bell, especially in his best robes and accordingly attitude. On the top, you had the War Heroine at his arm, astonishingly beautiful in her striking dress - a detail he wisely left out, she was a pile of nerves already - and together, they formed the hot gossip of the moment.

Many eyes scanned the belly, spotting nothing yet to their disappointment. Some stares covertly, others shamelessly visible.

She murmured, "They are all looking."

"They wished to be in my place, Hermione. Relax." Covering her hand on his arm with his palm, he moved further into the room, heading first of all to the Italian Prime Minister, "Good evening Signore Coppola, may I introduce you to Miss Hermione Granger, my partner."

It gained him a short look from his female companion, but hell,  _how can I describe you then?_

"Lietissimo di conoscerti,"  _Delighted to meet you,_ "It's an honour to meet such a lovely and famous lady." It came with all the considerations, the hand kiss, a light bow and an open once-over admiring her beauty.

The Italian PM was the first in a long row of invitees that didn't hide their curiosity, keeping it at all times polite. Hermione tried to keep track of who was who, how high they were in the political food chain, basically, the whole ball of wax.

Yet, she wasn't made for such games, as every question was silently accompanied by an underlying inquiry, everywhere a double entendre that irritated her. The easy way Draco navigated through such was, however, remarkable. He strayed away from those nosy bastards with a finesse she didn't own, neither did Harry or Ron.

Testimony of how Purebloods were raised to be.

Some didn't feel ashamed to bluntly ask when the wedding was taking place, as Lucius had uttered. Thankfully, Draco wove it off, suggesting that negotiations were still happening and there was no date settled, yet.

Draco appealed to her common sense during a breather moment, explaining that it wasn't the place nor the time to make her independence public. After all, this was an official event, important to the Ministry and their country, and announcing they weren't getting married at all would shift the focus from the matter at hand into their private life.

Ultimately, he succeeded into diffusing the pending bomb, yet he had to admit that all those questions became one too many. It was their privacy, their choice and those ugly bats speaking Italian-English should stick their nose into their own business.

One other thing he admitted: having her at his side was a tremendous success. Despite the irritating nagging, Hermione succeeded into charming the vote from the Italian Prime Ministry, even if she bent the truth slightly to achieve it. The man asked if she watched every Quidditch game from the front row. Hermione nodded and murmured shortly after  _If you start counting from the back..._  It had taken all his control to not roar in laughter.

-oOo-

It was two or three hours later since he brought her back to her apartment. The stamina she had in the start did melt in front of his eyes, and he did use her pregnancy as the reason why they left the dinner earlier than decorum allowed.

He returned to her because he couldn't fall asleep. He watched her sleep, tucking her back in with the escaped duvet cover; smiling at her little moan of content. He caressed her face tenderly with a single finger. Lost in his thoughts.

The more time he spent with her, the more he learned to appreciate her company. Not once, had she embarrassed him with a dumb remark. Hermione might not be up to date with the daily politics, but she had a bright mind to answer any question reasonably.

He understood now what his mother had meant a while ago. Could he see himself sharing a life with this woman? He did, once he learned how to deal with her temperament. She was straightforward in her judgement, on the contrary of other witches he didn't want to name, who said white while meaning black.

In his head, a plan shaped up. He was going to search with her for a place to settle down. One that would also fit his needs.

Before he left, Draco leaned in and kissed her softly. A kiss full of unspoken promises.

His end goal was no longer solely to become a present father anymore. But it demanded a soft approach, one which appealed to his Slytherin.

-oOo-

Hermione left with the herd of students at the end of a new day, guessing again by the whispers and the giggles that one Malfoy was waiting for her at the gate. Hopefully, it was Draco, she didn't have the mindset to deal with mister sassy.

"What an unexpected surprise." She pecked him on the cheek, seeing her hopes fulfilled.

"I brought some leaflets from a real estate office that I trust, the clerk gave me the addresses of a few options, I'm hoping you wouldn't mind if I join you in your quest."

"Oh, I didn't expect that."

"Why don't we go to Madam Puddifoot's, and in the meantime, you look at every prospect." Draco offered her his elbow, rolling his eyes at the annoying swooning behind Hermione.

"A slice of angel cake with frosting and tea?"

"Sounds better than olives and pickles at this hour."

-oOo-

As a precaution, he raised a muffliato around their table after their food had been served. Her angel cake had more than frosting, it came with strawberries, whipped cream and some chocolate raspings. It was side paired with a caramel latte and thickly layered caramel drizzle, specially requested with a conspirational wink. Clearly, Madam Puddifoot had a thing for Hermione and promptly fulfilled every whim.

Draco kept it soberer, lemon cheesecake and tea was enough. His main pleasure came from watching her devour the dessert in no time, licking the spoon of its contents unblushingly.

In the meantime, she browsed through the parchments, reading swiftly the main descriptions for the five selections he brought.

"They all have multiple bedrooms."

"For when you have a sleep-over, like Potter's sprog…"

"Why do I need two office spaces?"

"One to function as working space, the other as a library perhaps?" He had memorised every possible answer.

"One would suffice, Draco, I don't need two rooms for that." She sighed, realising her slice was devoured entirely.

"Do you want some more cake?" He noticed her reaction, smiling at her expression. One extra point to the positive side of his list, this wasn't a witch that deprived her of eating to the benefit of her figure. One of his previous dates had declared to thicken if she ate more than a spoon.

"I have to eat twice as healthy, not eat for two. But it was delicious, thank you for bringing me here." The first was more to herself than for him,  _the slice could have been thicker_ …

"Here, take the rest of mine. I prefer blueberry." He shoved her his plate, with still a half point of cheesecake on it. Draco had saved it with a purpose, not that he would confess it.

"Draco, at this pace, you'll have to roll me into the maternity ward, I'll be fatter than a whale."

"There's always a levitate in case of need, witch. Don't worry. Do any of these houses appeal to you?" He skimmed through the sheets.

"Apart from the extra rooms that I have no use for, they all have a garden, are in quiet neighbourhoods, I can't find just yet a reason not to like them. I guess we'll only know once we visit them."

"Are you up for a journey then?" His plate was by now empty, aside from a few crumbs. Draco left some money behind and offered her a hand after she gathered all the pages.

-oOo-

The floo's of all five houses had been configured to allow them a visit, thanks to the charmed parchments.

Arriving at the first, they started off by taking in the sight from outside.

It was a 17-century Manor, with pointed roofs, gravelled carriage drives, and in the distance, two massive iron gates; the main house surrounded by outbuildings, a brewhouse, an old coach house and stables. Inside, the sash windows were adorned by large drapes in baroque themed fabrics including golden tassels, and wall decorations that dominated the entire area.

After looking at the drawing room, she concluded, "Looks...nice." In reality, the details on the walls betrayed the age of the house, a little too archaic for her taste. A further inspection of the house, taught her quickly she would never feel at home inside this Manor.

"I'm going to say my piece, Hermione. I loathe the place. I expect my late grandfather Abraxas to come out of one of these rooms at any minute." It rubbed him the wrong way.

She giggled at his statement, "Oh gawd, it's my thought all along, minus the bit about your grandfather."

"Let us not spend another minute here, we have four more places to do." He dragged her quickly into the floo before she could change her mind.

The second was again not of his appeal, but it charmed her. Cosier, smaller, only two floors, all the rooms flowed into one another flawlessly, all with one general demeanour: large windows, allowing the entire ground floor to bathe in natural daylight.

The first floor had three bedrooms each with its own spacious bathroom and a more extensive study.

"I like this one…"

"The ceilings on the top floor kinda come down on me, downstairs feels better." This house was too small for his taste, even if it had extensive gardens for nice flights in the morning. He wanted more than three bedrooms…  _I should have ditched this one earlier._

"The kitchen is modern enough, with a few Muggle appliances, it will be perfect."

"Hermione, let us not get ahead of ourselves, we still have three more houses to visit." He was rapidly thinking of any more reasons to change her opinion.

The next two properties charmed neither of them. One missed a charming facade, even if it was almost as large as the first manor. The other one had a cold feeling, starting already outdoors. It looked too stately to their taste.

Yet, the last one enchanted Hermione as much as it did Draco, even if not for the same reasons.

He saw the ample grounds, and an extensive rail fenced paddock - the stables were clearly in perfect state. Draco could already imagine teaching his son how to ride a horse and fly a broomstick, admiring the beautiful gardens underneath.

The previous wizarding owners were also fond of a pool, even if it was a Muggle invention.

In the distance, he saw an annexed barn, recently renovated with large windows - its first floor had a bedroom if he wasn't mistaken.

It wasn't anything like his family's Manor, but a breathtaking well-maintained farmhouse, located the outside skirts of London.

Inside, Hermione fell in love mainly by the large open kitchen that also served as a breakfast room, the large windows giving view to the fantastic gardens. The reception room included the working floo, but the large drawing room housed a magnificent hearth in warm colours and wooden floor, and its windows allowed passage to a charming terrace.

Curious, she ran up the stairs to admire the six bedrooms - each one with their own bathroom facilities. The master bedroom was enormous, and the bed occupied more than half of it, with a four-poster bed and a cosy seating corner perfect to read before going to bed. Through the dressing room, she reached the bathroom, with its large bath on legs resembling the one inside the French castle.

Draco saw her daydreaming again when he joined her inside. He was almost certain that the look of this bathroom with a view of the gardens closed the deal.

"Draco…"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"It's perfect, look at the view! Have you seen the kitchen? There's room enough to invite our friends for brunch, the gardens are so extensive it has ample space for our baby to play, later."

"There's a paddock also, and an outside pool." He didn't say a word about her future plans, the mention of 'our friends' entirely not ignored.  _But better let it slide, for the moment being._

"Horses!" She walked further down the hall, praising the other rooms, and the large study. The house breathed homey all over. Together, they returned to the kitchen area, and she picked up the parchment concerning this property. "Oh, bloody hell, they are asking sixty thousand galleons."

"Hermione, we've talked about this. I will not even notice the difference, and as we agreed, once you have a settled life, and are earning your share, you can repay me." Willing or not, this house was theirs as of now. If need be, he would include Potter in his action plan.

"It will take years."

"I can wait." Her tone gave away how much she was caving in, "You can teach our son how to swim, in that magnificent pool. The little study downstairs is big enough for an office, the one upstairs will be your own library. You can even add extensions charms to make more room. On top, the master bedroom makes me jealous, mine lacks the cosy feel."

"It is one out of the fairy tale books, isn't it?"

"You must not forget the basement floor, with so many possibilities,"  _Ha, he won._  "I'll help you move in. The clerk is waiting for us to sign the contract."

"So soon?"

"I'm a Malfoy, love. When we say jump, people ask how high..."

She blinked a few times, "Prat." Hermione reflected for a moment, "Wait, were you so confident that I would agree with any of these properties?"

"No, Hermione, I didn't know if any would be of my own liking."  _He had hoped, however…_

"How soon?"

"It's vacant, if we sign the papers, tomorrow maybe, by the end of the week at the latest?"

"But, I will repay you!" She wove a finger before his face.

"Yes, Hermione." It was as if he was talking to Crabbe all over again, confirming the presence of cupcakes at one of the Slytherin parties at the Dungeons.

Phase one completed, he thought. There was room enough for his professional needs, the man himself was more than satisfied with the possibilities the house offered, for a gathering with friends, a dinner with his parents, and merely a cosy night with this woman, after a playful moment with his son. Phase two was up, steadily but stealthily move in with her.

Cunning was a Slytherin treat after all...


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy to feel decent enough to post this chapter. My angel Marlyrgrl94 beta'ed it for you, but you got to forgive me, writing is a hell when your brain isn't cooperating.
> 
> There are some lemons included. Don't say I didn't warn. Have a better Sunday than me, I'm swimming in the Kleenex.

**Chapter 12: Phase two**

The first stage of his plan was successful. He found the home for his little family.

Stage two was now up, make himself irreplaceable.

Signing the sales agreement was a piece of cake, all the documents were filled in her name by the time they arrived at the estate agent. It was impossible to hide her excitement, while she hand-signed each page. Hermione had fallen in love with the farmhouse, even if six bedrooms was a little over the top. She wasn't going to fill them with children of her own, but on the other hand, a sleep-over like Draco suggested belonged to a possibility.

"When do you want to start moving?" The wizard asked seemingly absent.

"I have two assignments to complete, Draco. If not for them, it would be tomorrow." The house was decorated, and aside from the extra bedrooms, there wasn't much she wanted to change straight away. The colours of the walls were tastefully chosen, the long wooden table in the breakfast nook was not going away, ever. Perhaps in time, a new lounger set or a minor change here and there.

But for now, it was good.

"House-elves are masters in packing. Tibby could give you a hand, and if you need me, I'm only a floo-call away." Draco turned the page of the Prophet with much noise, a question of giving her the idea he was half listening.

"I will not -"

"Tibby loves to dress as a superhero. I don't know where she got the idea from, last time I caught her flying around like that bloke with the black cape and pointy cat ears."

"You mean Batman?" This revelation made her smirk. The image was quickly alive in her mind.

"I have no idea, probably. Let her help you and in return, give her a new suit or something that goes along with it. Are there female superheroes in the Muggle World?"

"Oh yes, Superwoman, Batwoman, Captain Marvel, to name a few… a badass Black Widow. But all fictional, none of them really exist."

"A deadly spider woman?" His blond eyebrows hid under the fringe.

"No, a fierce fighter. Remind me later to show you the Avengers, it will give you a rough idea. Don't you have any comic books?"

"Uh, no." He didn't know what kind of animal those were for starters. Tibby told him once that her hobby came from talking to a house-elf who lived with a half-blood couple and their son read these black and white unmoving drawing books.

Hermione left the room to return quickly, carrying a stack of thin books, "These are mine, I'm a fan of Spiderman myself, Harry has a collection of Batman's and Captain America's. If you like these, ask him to read his when you're finished."

"As if we are chums who lend each other stuff." An amicable gathering like last time was the closest he ever got to Potter and his gang.

"Well, if you want to be part of my life, you'll have to learn how to get along. Harry isn't the worst, ask Blaise." She returned her attention to her manuscript, and he opened the first book on the stack.

An hour later, she sat a grilled cheese toast in front of him, "Malfoy to earth!"

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry." Time ran fast when you were engrossed in a book, "Do you have more of these?" He was on his second Marvel, having arranged them by issue number.

Wasting no time with explanations, she motioned him to follow her to a specific basket in a corner, "All that I own are here. There might be a Captain America and a Wonder Woman in there as well. Be my guest."

"This Wonder Woman, who's she?"

"She's a woman who comes from a distant island, is a great fighter and wears a tank top and hotpants plus high boots." She saw a spark light in his grey eyes,  _men are all the same_. "Why do you ask?"

"For Tibby, you can bribe her services with a costume? She'd love to help you settle in the new home. Imagine, studying for your tests inside your own study, with a view over the garden?"

"It's still abuse."

"No, Hermione. It's a trade. She will not accept your money, I freed her a long time ago. Give her a costume of this Wonder Woman, or something belonging to the bat guy. She'll love you for it, especially since you have more knowledge about this issue than her." In the meantime, he took all the books out of the basket, rearranging them per issue number and per character. Unwillingly, he might have stared a bit longer at the female badass she called Wonder Girl. The tits were particularly well drawn.

Hermione shook her head, and returned to her own toast, the cracking of her bite waking Draco from his daydreaming.

The stack of comic books outgrew her tomes, "Can I borrow these?"

"Don't you have to work?" As she expected, he didn't have to work intensively like others.

"Oh, I'm waiting for an invitation from the German Council. Until then, there isn't much I can do." His own grilled cheese disappeared in seconds. "You have got to show me how to make these…"

"Piece of cake, Draco. Two slices of bread, something between them and close the lid of the little grill. Wait for a little and magic!"

"Are you joking?"

"Why would I?"

"Never mind. Is it only cheese you put in there?" Actually, he followed her into the kitchen, watching her every move closely as she made a second for him.

"You put in whatever you want. Do you want another cheese, or ham and cheese or Nutella?" Draco gave her a look as if she spoke Chinese. With a sigh, she grabbed the chocolate spread out a cabinet, plus a spoon and fed him a taster, "This is Muggle, I buy it at the closest supermarket to the Leaky Cauldron."

"This is chocolate…"

"And hazelnut spread. My favourite. Croque Nutella?"

He grinned wide.

-oOo-

In the end, he made himself two more of those crockets, her grilling machine was no longer a mystery to him. Her stack of comic books had thinned by half, he couldn't get enough of it. Yet, while she headed to the sofa for a nap - her five minutes were an obligatory half hour, he refused to wake her up earlier - he took the time to stroll down her house and make an inventory of all she could use in their new home.

One of his first changes was going to be her towels. Not the colour, that was her choice, but the cotton she used was like scrapping paper compared to the fluffy Egypt he had at his disposal at the Manor. Secondly, he was going to ask his mother where she got those scented oil bottles at the Chateau, and order a collection of them for the bathroom.

Draco didn't miss her longing stare in the French bathroom, and he bet it was the first thing she imagined when the magnificent bathtub came in sight. Hermione might not want to use his money, but damn if he wasn't going to spoil her when the opportunity arose.

The last thought he had: there wasn't much to pack aside from the pile of books she owned.  _I can wrap these myself._  His love for reading acted as a compulsive disorder, and he had already noticed her way of cataloguing her books was very similar to his. He only needed to convince her, but to achieve such, there was nothing better than an invitation to check out his personal library at the Manor.

On top, his father might enjoy a new round of riling up Hermione. Lucius tried to hide it, but his daily request about a further visit from the Muggleborn witch occurred a little too often to be considered casual. Nor his Mother's in fact, the older witch asking everyday if Hermione's morning sickness was subduing already.

Much to his brunette's relief, it did. The last two mornings had not required a sprint to the bathroom - Tibby didn't fetch him, in the end - and Hermione had confirmed that aside from a little dizziness, it had calmed since she rose slowly from the bed; things were finally looking good.

"Will you ask Tibby to help you, or do you want me to do it?" Exactly thirty-five minutes later - yes, he was late, on purpose - he woke her up. Her sleepy gaze and ditto smile woke a longing in him to see it happen in bed next to him.

"Are you sure that a cosplay suit will be enough?"

"Cosplay? Hermione, she'll do it without even expecting a gift at all. They love household tasks."

"Cosplay is costume play, dressing up as someone." She was hungry after olives, fetching the bowl out of the fridge, and offering him one on her way to the table. He made sure they were available all the time, but he didn't share her love for the little round appetiser. Her Nutella was another beast altogether. Draco had spooned a portion, while she slept.

She returned to her books, he to his comics.

After observing her for quite a while, he asked curiously, "Hermione, is there something bothering you?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"You keep rubbing your, uhm, chest."

Her face couldn't turn redder, "Oh, that. Don't worry."

"Spill the beans, what's bothering you?"

"Woman stuff, let it go."

"If I can be of service…"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I know your body by now, no need to be ashamed. If you...let us say… have needs I can lend a hand for…"

"Oh, really?"

He raked through his hair, "Witch, I haven't been with a woman since our little encounter at Neville's place. You could be nice and give me something, to keep me satisfied."

"Is it my fault that you've gone celibate the last three months?"

"In a matter of fact, yes. You ruined it for any other witch, with your hot quim and amazing tits." He saw her features flush with arousal, internally congratulating himself for his witty comeback, though it was no lie. She did ruin it, his otherwise easy libido refused cooperation ever since. As if his dick told him,  _the brunette's pussy or none other_. "You're doing it again, witch, tell me what's wrong, or my hand will ease your discomfort next."

She held her breath audibly, "You wouldn't dare."

"You should know better by now, not to test me." He inched closer, fingers playing with her sleeve, "What the hell is going on with your tits?"

"The lace is uncomfortable. It scratches."

"Take it off. Problem solved. You have firm tits anyway, you don't need support." Draco knew his gaze was a lewd one, but the hell with it. Her bosom had filled visibly, he would love to lay his hands on the soft mounds and inspect the increase in volume personally.

"Don't you have a foul mouth? I'm not going to study braless with you here."

"If it's up to me, you study naked. Your body gives me wet dreams, I can use a visual update on your changed figure." His face was inches away from hers, her puffy breaths tickling his skin. "I know it's changing into a magnificent figure, to accommodate my son's presence."

Her hand approached her breasts again, but he held it up, and did it himself, rolling the perky nubs through the fabric of her blouse. There was no way she could avoid a whiny moan. He fixed her gaze with his, while his hand sought a way under her shirt, pulling the cup under the mound and releasing her breast from its confinement. Cupping the entire shape, his thumb rubbed, teasingly, circles around her puckered nipple.

"Draco…" She was putty against his invasion, pushing her breast more into his hand.

"Tell me, Granger. Is my thumb offering enough relief?" She might fight him with hand and tooth over the tiniest detail, on the physical plane, he had the upper hand. He affected her as much as she did him, and it pleased him. His pride was getting a decent stroke, especially when her hand guided his towards the other breast.

Testing the boundaries, he took her shirt off, unhooked the bra and latched on the neglected breast, feeling his own arousal as fiery arrows down his spine. Her moans were like a symphony to his ears, working stimulating to increase his devoting to one of his favourite female body parts.

As he suspected, her tits felt heavier, and he bet the areola had darkened too. Tonights wanking was getting a serious upgrade of visuals, for sure. He kneaded, licked and bit, pulling a nipple with his teeth to release it with a plop and repeat the gesture.

Draco pulled her onto his lap, offering a little friction from his rock-hard shaft, not for once decreasing attention. Going by the rocking of her hips, it was affecting her just as much, but he refrained from smirking. He didn't lie, since he had her, the only satisfaction his cock found was by his hand, to his memories of her delectable body. Enough female attention around him, at work, during a drink after hours, or on a Saturday night with his buddies. But none of the witches caught his eye. Not before he knew Hermione had his bun in her oven, and definitely not since he did know.

His hope to date this witch had somehow returned in full throttle, despite the wobbly start and her rejection.

"Hermione, love… Do you want my fingers elsewhere?" She was visibly torn between need and the thought in the back of her head telling her they were moving too fast. "Don't worry love. For now, we keep it as it is. Just me worshipping your tities, you rubbing against my dick. We'll take it slow, but I want you to take all you need."

Fuck if he wasn't close to losing his load in his pants, as a fourth-year teenager. If slowly worked, hell if he would ruin by wanting things too fast. She was already giving more than he expected, her humping on his groin increasing in pace and friction.

"Rub your hot pussy against my hard dick, love. Rub until you cum on my groin, you're so beautiful." He spoke between bitting and laving on her nipples, sensing she was close. Her response to his husky tone drove her crazy; her fingers pulling harder on his blond tresses and driving a hiss from him.

Man, he couldn't get enough of her tits, hiding his face between the valley. Draco felt her break apart just at the same time as he began to come into his pants, his growling mingling with her moans and her arms tensing around his neck. His hand forced her hips harder down on his cock, as he humped upwards to extend her orgasm as much as possible.

She leaned totally worn out against him, seeking to control her breath.

Draco from his side, planted kisses all over her neck, making his way up to her mouth and demanding it without requesting consent. He could taste the tea on her tongue, an overly sweet blend she drank moments ago. "Princess, let me court you. Let us find out if we are each others match, love."

Much to his pleasure, he sensed Hermione nod against his neck.

"I'll go home and change into some clean clothes, my trunks are filled with jizz." She giggled against his skin, the devil. "Then I'll take you on a decent dinner, to that Italian place the PM has suggested."

"Are you going to find a table so late?"

"You really need to learn that Malfoys always get things done, no matter how late it is." It won him a pat against his head, one he let go by. It did sound arrogant, but it was the truth, one that slowly was extending to her as well.

Anyway, this little intermezzo was part of his plan's third phase, seduce the witch. It was going to make it easier but also a bit harder. The humping was magnificent, but far from her glorious velvety channel of heat; he would have to use all his restraint not to push her too far.

He would have to learn to enjoy every shagging crumble she gave him.

Patience was often rewarded, definitely the one of a Malfoy.


	12. Male Gossipers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freshly beta'ed by my angel Marlygrl94, enjoy the newest instalment. I'm way behind answering reviews, I'll get back at it asap, but I appreciate every single one of them. They are brightening my difficult time.

##  Chapter 13: Male Gossipers?

 

Pansy waited outside London-U and hooked her arm through Hermione’s the moment she spotted her, “I’ve heard you have found a nice place to live.”

 

"Who was the bright mind to attribute gossipping to women? Men are worse!" The brunette was being led to Madam Puddifoot's, and she let it happen. It was always time for biscuits and tea, and the perfect spot for a chat waited for them as if the patron knew they were coming.

 

"Is it the first time you realise it? Never thought Granger wouldn't know something." The grin was not much appreciated. "Now, seriously, Draco told me all about the love lair you chose, how open it was, big gardens, pool, enough rooms…"

 

“The farmhouse has six bedrooms plus a guest room in the annexed barn.” Four too many she thought… “It has so much room, but I love the kitchen the most. It’s so cosy. Wait, he called it love lair?”

 

“When are you moving in?” Hermione’s last comment was waved away. The brunette told her nothing new, Draco had given her a rundown on everything, roping Pansy’s help in to speed up the relocation.

 

“I’m up to here...” Hermione drew a line over her head, “In schoolwork, not that I would love to sleep there tonight. I like the furniture in the bedroom, for starters, I wouldn’t change anything.”

 

“Alright, how many pair of hands do you need? I can gather at least four with no fuss, plus Draco's elf is galleons worth when it comes to packing.”

 

“I don’t want...that’s not the plan…”

 

“Listen, witch, in your delicate state, you shouldn’t be carrying weights anyway. We can pack everything in, bring it to its designated room and help you unpack basically. The fine tuning is up to you when you feel less drowning in assignments. In the meantime, you can enjoy your new home, instead of that tiny apartment.” Pansy was prepared to almost all counter-arguments, “This Saturday? Your Potter, Me, Blaise and of course, Draco. Should I ask your Weasley too? I’m leaving Ginny out, for obvious reasons. Sunday, I’ll help you organise a warming party, I’ll set up everything, you only have to show your lovely face.”

 

"My lovely face?" The more Pansy suggested, the more she felt agreeing with giving up the burden. Packing for a move is a spiteful job, unpacking an absolute nightmare. "Well, thank you, Pansy, I feel quite different nowadays."

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” One eyed the other as if she was losing her mind.

 

“I’m inflating all over the place, not only the belly. My face looks exhausted.”

 

“What did you expect, witch? You are carrying life inside that body of yours.”

 

“My boobs…” Hermione lowered her tone, after a few curious glares around her, “My boobs are spilling out of my bra, and I’m already wearing these type of slouchy pants that expand with the volume. I don’t feel attractive anymore, and it’s only the beginning.”

 

“Have you asked Draco about his opinion?”

 

“NO!” It was quick, slightly panicking. “We’re complicated.”

 

“Share it with your newest sister, what’s complicated about you and the wizard who put that bun in your oven?” Now it was getting interesting, though Pansy, closing in to probe a little more.

 

“Oh, nothing. Never mind. Saturday you say? I can do Saturday… but brunch on Sunday is perhaps too fast, maybe a week later?”

 

“Hermione, you’re diverting, sister. You don’t fool me, nice try. Now, I agree with the brunch. Let us get back at what matters. Why do you feel it's complicated?”

 

“Pansy… I… he’s…”

 

“I should record this, never thought to see the swot grow speechless…” Pansy giggled, though she returned to a certain remark, “The swot is meant as a cuddle name, I mean no harm, witch.”

 

“Honestly, I was doubting between hexing you or smacking you in the back of your head, Pansy Pans” Hermione huffed.

 

“I’m not easily distracted, again what's complicated about Draco and you? Don’t you find him attractive?” The blush on Hermione’s face was much telling, “I got the answer to that, have you kissed after your little encounter? Ha, never play poker, sister, your face is an open book...brace yourself, I’m going naughtier, have you repeated your encounter?”

 

“Not really…”

 

“But, do you want to?”

 

“Gawd...he confuses me! He comes to my home, fills the pantry, orders his elf to clean my house without conferring with me first...it drives me nuts. I have to fight him to prevent him from buying me everything...I’m not one of those slags who want to live off a man’s vault…”

 

“He’s the one offering, girl. You’re not abusing his kindness, totally different of a money vulture like a Greengrass.” The cake was eaten till its last crumb, but Pansy ordered a new pot of tea for both, “But the way I see it, he’s taking care of you.”

 

"Oh, that he is…" Hermione's mind brought her back to their dry humping. After he left, she had to please herself in bed once again, reaching her peak quite easily thanks to the vivid rundown of memories. His hardness against her core felt heavenly, and the sensation made her horny once more.

 

“What did he do? You went from normal into slightly breathless in seconds...share with your sister the juicy details…” Draco must have done something right.

 

“We uh...he helped me with a little issue…”

 

“Did you have sex? No? Okay, some rubbing? I’m getting warmer, I see...naked? No? Let me guess...some humping over clothes? Ha! Was it good? It was, woman, you still look like you’re a cat that got to the cream...this is precious. Do you want a repeat?”

 

"Pansy...please stop. I had an issue with over sensitive parts, and he eased it…"

 

The other witch frowned, “Your fanny was oversensitive? Never heard of that, we call it feeling horny.”

 

“Gosh, no! I have to wear plain cotton bras nowadays, the lace makes me itchy.” Hermione raised a muffliato before answering the Slytherins remark,  _ what did the woman think of her? That she was a nymph of sorts?  _

 

“Oh….oh...wow...shit...that sucks...who said again that being pregnant was the most beautiful moment of a woman’s life? It must have been a man, for sure. No lace?” Pansy was seriously contemplating about remaining childless, she still had yet to hear one good comment. “Only boring bras? Oh, girl, I’m so sorry... luckily, it’s not a permanent issue...and you have Draco to help you...he’s a titties man if you know what I’m saying...” the eyebrows wiggled conspiratorially. 

 

Hermione bit her lip, blocking a snippy comment, but failed, “I know…” the giddy look was back on her face. 

 

"You listen good, witch, to what your snake sister is about to tell you. You'll do exactly as I say, as well. Let the man take care of you. If he wants to fill your pantry with food, so you don't have to worry about groceries, let him. If he wants to buy you a house, let him. Uh huh, don't give me that look. You're cooking the next Malfoy in your womb, it's more than normal that he provides for you and the baby's welfare, definitely if you refuse to marry the bloke. As for last, don't deny yourself a good shag or some dry humping including the titty worshipping, that baby didn't conceive himself, did he? And as very very last point, allow him to show you who he is."

 

Pansy took a breather by sipping her tea. "He's not the man he showed you during school time, I know a completely different Draco than you. I will even tell you more, Hermsy, I'm crossing fingers and toes, and Morgana knows what else, that you fall in love with him. You give him a run for his money, you meet him at every corner with your witty banter, I strongly believe you're his perfect match."

 

“Reading too many romantic novels lately? Or is Blaise forgetting to woo you as you need?” In Hermione’s mind, Pansy was stretching the imagination. The bloody sexy wizard might be a man she didn’t know -  _ who's fault was it? -  _ but to be his perfect match...those only happen in fairy tales. “Besides, no Hermsy! It rhymes with germs, bah.” A last-minute remark invaded her thoughts, “By the way, he’s not buying me a house, he’s lending me the money until I can pay him back!”

 

“You’re a moron! I bet that house doesn’t even make a dent in his personal fortune, much alone the family’s vault. You are a crazy bint.” The pointer hit the forehead a few times, followed by a hand with spread fingers before her face, the  _ duh _ gesture, "Agh, it's not abusing, woman. It's making sure little Draco, or mini Hermione has a decent roof above his or her head, you bint!"

 

Hermione looked irritated, “I don’t want to live off his money. FYI, it’s a mini Draco.”

 

Pansy’s face softened in a second, “He’s having a son? Oh boy… my best friend will be a marshmallow, teaching his little boy how to fly and all about Quidditch. Just do me a favour, make sure he doesn’t pass on the annoying Malfoy pompous attitude, makes me wanna…” A closed hand over the other twisted, as if she choked a throat. 

 

It made Hermione roar, “You don’t like his arrogance either? And me thinking it was reserved for those he considered inferior to him.”

 

"No, even his fellow snake friends weren't spared of how mighty the Malfoy family is. The more the war advanced, the less I saw that side of him, but believe me, I've stepped on his toes many a time when he gave me the treatment after shagging me behind an alcove, the tosser." 

 

Hermione decided on the spot to consider the Slytherin a sister-witch and to store this news for later use.

 

-oOo-

 

His crack of apparition coincided with her writing the last paragraph on her assignment. 

 

“Hey, princess, are you finished?”

 

“I’m just done, good evening, Draco. I guess you have freed your schedule for Saturday?” In the meantime, she overlooked the parchment for errors.

 

“I’m not following, what about Saturday? Do you need me?”

 

“Oh, I’ll wait until Pansy gives you a rundown on our talk this afternoon… you love to gossip, I learned.” Her quill scrapped against the paper, to amend an orthographic mistake.

 

"Are we sassy today? I don't know anything from Pansy. I came to ask if you want to have dinner with me at the Manor. Mother is talking my ears off, about when you'll visit her."

 

"Oh, dine with your mother? Yes, it sounds nice, should I change of clothing?"

 

“No, you’re looking fine, it’s nothing formal. Hell, my mother invites you and you agree immediately. I have to beg for one Italian dinner before you accept it!”

 

“Boohoo, someone is feeling mistreated, poor wizard. You must tell your father all about it!” Both fists rubbed rolling under her eyes, adding to the banter. “Will he be there too? I can use some witty poking, this assignment was boring like hell.”

 

“Continue, and I’ll lay you over my lap and show you exactly how mistreated I feel, witch.” In fact, his eyes darkened at the prospect, but one far from inflicting pain. 

 

A hand appeared at his eye level, shaking like a leaf, “Oh, I feel so scared…” the same arm hooked around him, “Take me to your mother, Draco. I’m feeling quite hungry.”

 

He growled, “We aren’t finished, Princess, dinner with my mother is only a delay.” Yet, he abided her wishes, he liked this sassy witch.

 

-oOo-

 

“There you are, my favourite daughter-in-law!” Lucius didn’t disappoint. Sitting as a king in his armchair, he folded the evening edition of the Prophet with big gestures upon her arrival. 

 

“Good evening, Lucius. Still delusional I see?” Just what she needed, a round of banter. 

 

“I promised you, I’ll be the one taking you down the aisle.”

 

“I see you’re falling in repeat, it must be the age, Lucius. Your brain is falling to the illness of elders.” 

 

It struck a nerve, but his answer was drowned by Narcissa’s welcoming, “I’m so glad to see you, Hermione. How do you feel lately, dear?”

 

“Much better, thank you. I’m more human lately.” To the surprise of both wizards, the women hugged, a lingering older hand rubbing slightly more affectionate than expected over the brunette’s back.

 

“Good, and when is the next appointment?”

 

Hermione sat down on the chair Draco pulled for her, watching how he took the next one for him, “Next week, Thursday, Narcissa.”

 

“Perfect, please inform me of everything the healer says. I want to know all about it.” The confirmation nod pleasured the matriarch, tremendously. “Draco told us about the beautiful home you’ve found, and I bought a present for you.”

 

“Narcissa, you don’t have to…”

 

"Nonsense dear, a woman never refuses a present. In fact, I'm wondering why my son hasn't gifted you anything to celebrate your pregnancy." A slightly accusing look met a cautious silver glare. 

 

"I gifted your mother a nice necklace when she told me she was expecting you, son."

 

“Lucius, if I may. My pregnancy is not similar to Narcissa’s. We’re not following the traditional path, as you two did.” Hermione wasn’t going to stand by idly and let Draco be roast for something so trivial as a bauble. 

 

“My dear daughter-in-law…”

 

“Don’t call me that…” She sneered from over the edge of her glass.

 

“I will until you get used to the idea, dear  _ daughter-in-law _ . It's going to happen anyway… Miss Granger-soon-to-be-Mrs-Malfoy.”

 

“Father…” Draco wasn’t enjoying the course of the conversation, fearing a temperamental lash-out. 

 

A male hand waved the warning away, “Your mother is correct, you should have given your witch something by now to thank her for the precious gift of life. Even if the said witch doesn't care about jewellery, and even if the next Malfoy has been conceived outside the traditional courting ways. You may be stepping on each customary rites usual to our family, but there’s no need to smash all of them down.” Father and son stared at each other, while Hermione’s glare was spitting fire at the oldest Malfoy. 

 

"Father, can I speak to you in private?" Draco had a piece to say but wished to do so outside Hermione's hearing. 

 


	13. Riling up, the new hobby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drops this chapter in your lap (it contains goodies), thanking everyone for the good vibes. I got yesterday really good news and I can breathe again freely. Once more, I thank my angel Marlygrl94 for her beta-work.

**Chapter 14: Riling up, the new hobby**

"Can you stop pushing her buttons, Father? I'm trying to stay in a good understanding with her, but every time you open your mouth, you're undoing my improvement, damn it."

"In case you haven't noticed, your witch is more than capable to stand up for herself. I've promised her to be the one walking down the aisle with her, mark my words: It. Will. Happen."

"I temporarily forgot about your new found talent to foresee the future. Pity, it didn't manifest  _before_  the noseless bastard entered our lives."

An older hand pressed on the younger's shoulder, "I failed you countless times, I know, and I regret the pain I caused you. I'll spend my days asking for forgiveness, son. But you have to forgive me... I can't help it, I love to rile her up. She never disappoints me… plus I sense that something has shifted between you. You're doing something good, son." Even now, Draco felt a blush rise in his features, "Take a piece of advice from your old father. The most gratifying moments between a passionate couple often start with a good bantering. If the nice approach isn't helping enough, you might throw it over another side and, forgive me my bluntness, make her see that Malfoy men know what they do in bed. Not that you necessarily need a bed."

This was probably the first time the son saw the father blush with a mischievous glint, not that the son didn't flush from this conversation. He never received pointers from his father on how to perform in bed, nor even had the talk took place about the bees and flowers, trusting that his son would learn it all by himself.

Yet, he didn't stash away the comment as unusable. Draco was taking any crumble he could, if pushing her buttons would bring him some satisfaction, can you blame a bloke?

-oOo-

"I don't need jewellery, Narcissa." The glass was set on the table slightly harder than meant.

"Hermione dear, I understand your point. However, there's nothing wrong with accepting a well-intentioned present to show you how much he cares. I suspect Draco is aware of your taste for subtlety, he won't disappoint you."

The younger witch felt her discomfort return, and felt compelled to ask for advice, "Narcissa, can I ask you something personal?"

The embarrassment in her tone was, and the older woman came closer, "A female type of problem?" The clipped nod confirmed her suspicion. "Tell me, what's your problem?"

Hermione scrunched her face, "Did you encounter some uneasiness with a certain body part?"

"During my pregnancy with Draco? Oh, dear...so many." It was also an old wives tale that you forgot all about it after giving birth. "You got to be more specific, so I can help you."

"My...breasts…"

"The increase of volume?"

"No… that's natural, so I've read. It's more oversensitivity of…"

"Ah, I see, let me guess, you have the feeling you want to scratch the entire time?" Perfectly shaped eyebrows hid under the fringe.

"Oh fuck, yes. Pardon my English, Narcissa. First I thought it was due to the lace, but hell, even plain cotton is driving me crazy…" The will to scratch was forcibly subdued at the very moment. She wasn't inside her private quarters to give in to the need.

"Well, there's this charm that works miracles, similar to the cushioning of shoes, you know, the one so you can walk on heels for hours without the hurt?" Narcissa demonstrated the wand gesture, silently asking for permission to apply it in the needy zone. The effects were immediate. "When my midwife taught me this, I stopped refraining from wearing my favourite sets, enlarging them of course when it was necessary. Your bosom will increase a cup size, more or less. But, what works too, if you allow me a little naughtiness, is the assisting hands of your wizard. The pleasure is ultimately gratifying, take my word for it."

Hermione cleared her throat blushing. A particular memory invaded her thoughts, one she hoped for a repeat if she was honest.

"Sweetheart, why don't you and I…" Father and son rejoined them. "Attend a nice wellness day to relax? Moving into a new home can be exhausting for a witch, so much more if you're expecting. When does it suit you the best?"

Draco guessed the frown was more from figuring out when it was more convenient then of searching for a polite refusal. It pleased him to see his mother make an effort so Hermione could feel welcome within their family, and to see those efforts pay off.

"Narcissa, I guess that Miss Granger has no free time for such trivialities, she's very busy with her studies, my love." Lucius bit in his chicken stew, with a taunting smile.

"Narcissa, this Wednesday I have a free day."

"Perfect, I know the perfect place for a relaxing day." Sometimes, Lucius poking did bring the required results. The smirks on every Malfoy face were telling.

-oOo-

She returned home still grinning. Diner had been quite a pleasure, as the bantering between Lucius and her went on for the rest of the evening.

Was it about what their wellness day should include,  _We will, of course, end the day with a decent meal at Le Dukes, parading a beautiful woman is one of the Malfoy's men biggest pleasures._

Hermione was still adjusting to the fact that Lucius called her beautiful, on the contrary of the mudblood comment back in time.

But his compliment wasn't even cold, or he added his sting, "It's important to show unity in these times of doubt." He rose his hands in the air, "I'm not forcing anything, I'm just saying it's important that people see there's no animosity between us. I've said my peace already and made my promise."

 _Just saying my arse_ , thought Hermione at the time, but Narcissa added, "I hate to admit my husband has a point. Let people see we are interacting at ease with each other, we'll kill every negative gossip as the announcement of a wedding remains out."

"Fine, we'll dine like one big happy family at Le Dukes." The man's opinion was valid and essential, foremostly, from Draco's point of view. If they interacted in public without animosity, it couldn't undo the wizard's effort to improve his name.

It darkened her mood for a moment, but precisely at that point, Narcissa handed her over a basket with a huge white bow on top. Inside, the content made Hermione gasp, "Oh my god, are these the same as the ones I saw in France?"

"Exactly the same, they are essential bathing oils which leave your skin super soft and smell heavenly good. Draco asked me where I've gotten them, and I simply decided to gift the very first, in honour of your new home."

"I haven't moved in yet, Pansy will help me Saturday."

"It's the first I'm hearing of…" Draco huffed, connecting the dots. "Why didn't you ask for my help?"

"I'm only waiting until Mr. Chatty-Kathy here consulted with Pansy to know what we've discussed this morning." Lucius choked on his wine. "She was going to set up with Blaise, and probably with Ginny and Harry too."

"You are going to let Tibby help with packing, won't you, Hermione?" Narcissa enquired keeping her face straight as much as possible. Her son being called out for gossip was a hilarious first.

"I'm heading to a shoppe in Muggle London to buy Tibby something related to comic books, Draco told me she likes to costume-play."

"Don't remind me, last time she flew into the house with a blue sort of pyjama on, red knickers on top and a red cape hanging from her shoulders. I asked her what she was doing, and she answered me this weird thing about being a superwoman."

Hermione burst in a roar, laughing heartily at the vivid image in her eyes, "Oh gawd, she roleplayed SuperWoman? Merlin, I would love to see that!" She held her arms tight to her belly, to stop the shaking, though a hand wiped a tear or two. Alas, a new giggle fit left her chest, "I'm so sorry, I can't stop the picture in my head. Can I use the bathroom, please?"

Draco escorted her to the nearest lavatories, surprised to see she couldn't stop laughing. Opening the door for her, he held her for a second, to dry a new tear of laughter from her cheek with his thumb. Her face was as bright as the sun to him, an image he stored for later, eager to see it happen more often.

He waited patiently until she was finished, the blush in her cheeks still visible. Unable to resist his urge, he held her face between the palms of his hands and kissed her passionately, humming of pleasure as she whimpered. Her own hands covered his, to keep him in place, for a few seconds before they sought a way to his shoulders and push him closer to her body.

Instinctively, he walked them towards the nearest wall, pinning her against it, while fingers followed her arms, down the curves of her breasts until they stopped at her hips and press her apex tighter to his own pelvis.

Hermione totally forgot where she was, intoxicated by the sharp thunders of need down her spine; her leg wrapped around his arse, to seek more friction on his hardening member; drawing more low grunts out his throat.

"Love, my...parents...ugh, fuck...witch...Salazar's knob...Hermione…" She was making it very hard for him to resist lowering his trousers and take what was being offered. "Please, Princess. My father and mother…"

"Oh...Oh…" Leg slid down, an ashamed blush rose to her face just.

"No, love. No need to feel embarrassed, I want us to continue this little conversation at a later moment tonight, Hermione. Don't close me out, Princess. Please." Draco shoved tresses away from her face, caressing her hair, placing lingering kisses everywhere to ease the cold he felt from her distancing demeanour. "We're not finished here; instead we wrap it up, say our goodbyes and I bring you home to carry on where we stopped."

"Draco…"

"No, that's not happening. You're not shutting me out, Hermione." He was a man on a mission.

His mother couldn't hide the surprise as he announced their departure, "We're still good for Wednesday, right?"

"Yes, Mother. Owl her the address, Hermione will be there. Father."

Lucius looked silently, assessing the situation. He couldn't precisely lay his finger on the point, aside from the suspicious glow on the witches face. Instead, he nodded, "Do visit us sooner, I miss your witty spirit otherwise. Life can be boring nowadays."

The answer was half omitted by the way Draco hauled her to the Floo, the bottles of bathing oils quickly trailing behind them, thanks to a levitation spell from the young wizard.

-oOo-

His burden was quickly disposed on the nearest table, the thud a little harder than desired, but he didn't want to lose time and risk a change of mind from his witch.

Nearly immediately, he wrapped her in his arms to kiss her fervently, reawakening the passion from moments before.

"Draco…"

"Stop thinking, feel me, witch, feel my need for you." He rubbed his hardness against her sinking slightly through his knees to make sure the head of his cock hit the bundle of nerves at her apex. "Please, Princess. Its been so long for me…"

She moaned from his attack on her throat, the lips nipping their way up to her mouth until they covered her entirely and launched a hungry attack. His tongue seduced her into playing, dancing around, tasting her.

Lost in sensation, Hermione laced her fingers through his hair, pressing herself harder against his tight body, "Bedroom, please...Draco…"

There was no need to ask twice. He swept her off her feet, setting her perfectly in the middle of her bed before covering her body halflings, leaving room for his hand to roam over her curves, while the other held her face in place.

The setting wasn't entirely of her taste. She nudged him into covering her body with his.

"I'll hurt the baby."

"Don't be daft, he's well protected. I need to feel you…" The initial retort turned into a needy request, desperate for pressure. Draco was, of course, not a wizard to disappoint. He offered the requested friction while relieving some of the weight by supporting on his flexed arms.

It was satisfying for a few moments, but soon the desire for skin contact became urgent, and she fumbled with his sweater and shirt until his upper body was naked, with Draco retributing the favour with her own blouse and camisole, followed by her bra.

"I love your titties…" At first, he inhaled her scent hiding his face between the valley, then he laved on her nipples dividing his attention equally among both mounds. Hermione had no other choice than to surrender, melting under the luscious kneading. Her foot nudged his arse to press harder but today humping wasn't offering enough satisfaction. Instead, her fingers sought a way between their bodies, to open his button and the zipper so her hands and feet could lower his trousers, soon followed by his underwear.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Draco. I need more…"

"I'm all yours, witch." The remainings of his underwear and socks were swiftly removed, and he aided her to dispose of her own garments, grunting sinfully at the first skin contact. "Ah, you're so hot and wet."

Draco rubbed his shaft between her nether lips, making sure his head hit her clit repeatedly. Her breasts received divided attention, his gaze travelling from her face to her plump mounds and how his dick resurfaced between her pussy.

Reaching between them, Hermione shifted his cock and lined him up, her other hand pushing his arse until her walls opened under his invading hardness. Her breath stoked, and she tensed fully.

The wizard barely allowed her a few seconds to adjust to the intrusion, hissing at the heated feeling around his member. His control reached his limits, and his hips thrust with ardour, swept by her moans, the squirming thighs and how her mouth bit in his shoulder or plundered the mouth she claimed away from the nipple he lapped on.

Unexpectedly, he pulled away, twisted and set her on her fours and entered her from behind, hands free to press on her clit or to squeeze a jiggling breast. Hermione pressed as he pushed, turning her head to face him with reddened cheeks, and hungry eyes, "Fuck me, Draco...make me come...oh, fuck…"

It blurred before his eyes. His hand wrapped around a bunch of hair, and he pulled to force her on her knees, back resting against his chest while he thrust upwards feeling her juices trail down his thighs. His thumb rubbed her clit frantically, and she broke apart in his arms whimpering.

Her clutching walls was the push that tilted him over the edge. With a hand around her chest, and fingers creasing in her hips, he jerked inside, cumming in intense spurts; her arm turning his face towards her mouth and smothering his grunts with her lips.

It seemed endless, how she clenched and he jerked, barely room for air between their bodies. His breath, cold streams of air on her shoulders, the hairs on her skin raising in response.

Ultimately, he nudged her to lay on her side, him spooning around her and his fingers splayed open over the light swell of her belly. They remained like this for minutes that felt like hours. At a certain point, he rose to leave her, uncertain how to proceed. But she held him up, "Stay."

"Just for tonight or longer?"

"Baby steps, Draco. Tonight, for now, we'll see about tomorrow, later. Please?"

"I can't go back to dry humping after this, Princess. Don't ask it from me…"

"Denying myself a piece of heaven is unwise."

The satisfied male smirk was impossible to hide. Draco swirled her in his arms, kissed her full on the mouth and cradled her against his chest, laying once more a hand on her belly.

The gesture was shattering her walls, outside his knowledge. His genuine care melted her heart. The baby was completely unplanned, but no matter how tiny he was, he occupied already a big chunk of their hearts. Even in the man she never thought capable of having such feelings. She had to admit, this was a version she didn't know. A Draco she wasn't opposed to uncovering the hidden layers.


	14. Morning Wake-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One: I'm still recovering from the fangirl weekend with my Tom Felton, he's an adorable cutie pie. *sighs*
> 
> Second: My Marlygrl94 asked me to take some time-out as a beta for a while. Luckily, I have my other angel Magzillasaurus who took over faster than a Firebolt.  
> I thank both ladies for their time helping me create this.

##  Chapter 15: Morning wake-up

He grumbled the first time she left the bed for a quick visit to the bathroom, pulling her into his arms again and snuggling closer when she returned.

The second time, already cursing the first rays of the sun, he stared at her with his sneer and one open eye. He was everything but an early riser. Although, when she curled around his body, inserting a leg between his, he let out a deep sight, inhaling in return the smell of her hair and closed his eyes.

But the camisole she wore did nothing to shield the taut nubs pressing against his chest. Her exhales made his own nipples pebble, and his sleep dissipated when he felt the tip of a tongue brush the point. Looking at her between misty eyes, he asked, "What are you doing?"

His answer sounded cheeky, “Oh, nothing, just testing a theory.”

In return, he grumbled, lost between the awakening arousal and a sleepy mood, “I’m not a guinea pig, witch.”

“Don’t worry, you’re doing fine.” Rising up by her arm, she kissed his bud, laved with a flat tongue and delighted in the hisses he couldn’t control, all while she summed up her opinions about him, “Forever the Slytherin’s nerd. Always aiming to be the best wizard of all snakes, aside from Salazar himself.”

He cleared his throat, “What is this theory of yours?” 

“That your nipples are as sensitive as mine.” Catching one between her teeth, she pulled and released with a pop. “See? I sense a twisting member against my leg, proof that you’re not immune to what I’m doing.”

“Is there a second section to this experiment of yours?” Speaking coherently was extremely difficult, keeping the focus all the more. “I’m sure there are other parts just as sensitive.” He let her play as much as she desired, not one to deny himself the bliss this woman provided between the sheets. At least the physical part of their relationship worked perfectly and was more than gratifying.

“I’m not in a rush.” She divided the attention equally between both nipples after she climbed over his leg to settle between the limbs. Keeping her eyes fixed on his grey gaze, the tongue flashed from one nub over the other, “I love the way you hiss when I do this.” A new lick. “Hmm, on to the next phase…”

His chest got peppered by kisses, trails of teeth along the creases of his pectorals and she chuckled against his skin as one flexed instinctively. His abdomen was next, his six-pack wasn’t chiselled as that of a bodybuilder, but there were shadows of toned muscle. He chose to grab some sheet and keep his hands busy to refrain from touching her.

This Granger-exploration of his body was quite a turn on, and his shaft was twitching in anticipation. To light his fire even more, she pulled her camisole over her head and snuggled his length between her valley, rubbing it back and forth for a few moments.

He slammed his head back, his Adam's apple protruding through his neck,  "Fuck, woman."

“Maybe, we’ll see.” It was sassy Hermione time, and she made sure his cock slid between her breasts, as she moved up and down his belly, tracing the creases with the tip of her tongue.

There was a glint in her eyes as she finally lowered to his groin, grabbing his member at the base and launching a suckle assault on a testicle at a time. “Fuck...I...witch…”

“Cat got your tongue?” Words barely passed her lips, as she closed them around the head, sucking the arrow-shaped tip before releasing it with a pop. “How sensitive are you?”

“Euh...Grang-...Salazar’s ti-...” In short, she drove him insane and took away his ability to speak decently. His cock was her lollipop and melting ice cream in one. The tongue running flat down the shaft as if to lick the trail of melting vanilla, before returning all the way up and taking it deep into her mouth, following a twisting hand downwards.

“How does this feel?” Her fingers caressed the perineum.

He stared at her with blurry eyes, skin blushing red with arousal. His control was reaching its limits, “Well, if you continue like this...I’m...I’ll be unable to satisfy you in another way than with my fingers.”

She gave him a predatorial smile, “Is that a challenge?”

"No...fuck...I'm just...stating...facts…" She did a thing with her tongue over the slit, and he almost lost it, grunting loud, "Grang...Hermio...damn...argh…" Before she knew, a hand landed on the back of her head and guided her into the rhythm he hungered for. 

Hermione didn’t fight his domination; instead, she let him bob her head over his cock, closing her lips tightly around the hardness and hollowing her cheeks at the exact moments. To have him this undone was gratifying. Draco Malfoy losing control by her doing. It brought her a satisfaction that she couldn’t quite describe, which increased her need just as much.

Yet, she wanted something else. She wanted him to consume her with the fiery passion he was showing, so her hand shoved his softly away, she rose to her knees, pulling down her undergarments with his frantic aide and straddled him feeling his member stretch in the familiar but oh so delicious way.

His thumb found her bundle of nerves in an instant, while the other claimed her mouth, lips and teeth clashing eagerly. “Fuck, woman, you’re driving me bullocks.”

She took his lip between her teeth, “You’re welcome, now make me come on you.”

“My pleasure, my lady.” His hand ground her hips in place, and he used his abdominals to pump into her at a maddening pace. His cock gliding effortlessly between her folds, “Your pussy is so wet, woman… so eager to feel my dick plunder your walls, so hot…”

Her playful dominance melted under his pounding, she let her head rest against his shoulder hands grasping his arms shaking.

“Draco…oh, gawd, Lord Jesus…”

"I'm your sex god, Princess. Don't scream other bloke's name in my presence…" He thrust harder into her core, to draw the moans he loved to hear, "Repeat my name…"

She mewled it against his lips, “Draco.”

“That’s right, I’m your fucking...Draco...Malfoy…, do you hear me? Your Draco…”

“My Draco.” Hermione cried her release, clenching around him uncontrollably, her frame squeezed tightly against his chest, at the same time as he grunted his own completion.

He pushed her harder against his waist, to bury his pulsing member as deeply he could. Lost in the coil of her cry,  _ my Draco. _ It did something to him, it made his heart jolt with an unusual feeling.

Though the heat that spread through his body following her words only fueled the fire of his bliss and he believed that his cock didn’t stop with spilling seed.

It was him now, who kissed her face everywhere he could reach, consuming her breath and moans, rubbing a cheek against a cheek. Telling her with a husky voice, “I’m your Draco. Yours, no one else’s, love. Yours alone.”

She snuggled against his shoulder, his powerful heartbeat right below her ear, the pace lulling her into sleep. But Draco was wide awake, caressing the little bump that his hand now could curl around, while lost in thoughts.

If she didn't want to marry, then his father could go and throw a fit for all he cared. If that was what this witch wished, instead of continuing his family legacy, he would take it. Everything was fine for him except seeing her walk out of his life, the thought alone clutching his heart in agony.

This witch was stubborn as hell but willing or not, she was his to care for. The farmhouse was their future home, where his son and any other child they might welcome later would  grow happily as a family. A real family and not one like with his parents had, where the image prevailed above feelings.

He counted on his witch to show him how, and to set him in his place if he was falling into the Malfoy-trap. More the Weasley-type, less Malfoy, if he was honest. More joy than stately. A family in every sense of the word, minus the ‘I do' if need be.

Though, maybe he could still turn her mind. He was a Slytherin after all, one with a mission: Keep this muggleborn witch at his side, as long as he breathes.

-oOo-

Breakfast tasted a little more satisfying this morning. The pile of pancakes was bigger than her usual, and she could swear that today’s orange juice was sweeter than normal.

Anyway, the smile on her face wasn’t erasable, and it didn’t go unnoticed, “You look happy, Princess.”

She gave him a small shrug, "The usual, it's nice that the morning sickness is gone for good." It was a little lie. She did enjoy the fact that she didn't have to run to the bathroom anymore, but her joviality of this morning had nothing to do with it, but rather how homier it felt to make breakfast with him.

While he made tea, he kept an eye on every step it took to make the pancakes, up to the baking process, his humming approval at first taste what she needed to feel proud.

“Are you drinking coffee with sugar or sugar with coffee?” After the third spoon, she had to ask.

He looked not-amused“Any comments about my sweet tooth?”

“Just asking.” She curled her bottom lip, pulling the shoulders, “How you stay so slim is a wonder of nature.”

He gave her a lewd glance, “Mostly thanks to much flying and lately from all the bed exercise I’ve been doing. I have a very demanding witch in bed.”

"All in the name of science." Her angelic face was an utter failure, and both broke in a laugh.

“By the way, what do you say if I pack your books while you study?” He cleaned his mouth with a napkin, erasing the remaining traces of syrup. “You catalogue your tomes just like I do.”

Her cuppa was slowly lowered on the table, Hermione got itchy thinking that her method would be ruined, “Can I trust you to keep my system in place?”

“Do you want a tour around the Malfoy library to get a feel?”

It was as if he suggested a trip to Disneyland, eyes wide full of excitement, “Can I touch them?”

“You can even borrow as many as you like.” He caved in, pressing a kiss on her lips. “How much time do you need?”

"I need two hours for ancient laws, I guess, I have to write six feet of parchment." She sipped the last of her tea, scrunching her face. It wasn't her favourite subject, and Harry's trick to writing with bigger letters wasn't going to hold.

"Then I suggest: you work on your assignment, I'll pop over to the office and check the paperwork. I'll return at midday with lunch, and after the meal, I'll be your guide inside our library. When you're done admiring, we'll return you back to your studies, and I'll start packing your books." He described it sitting back relaxed, legs stretched in front of him. 

Her face was a book of emotions. The prospect of the biggest private library known to her worked as a carrot to a horse, “The assignment is not due for three weeks.”

“Meaning?” The cunning snake was revelling in the win. He had her in his web.

She looked sheepish at him, “That I can do it tomorrow?”

"I will not be accused of bringing you to the dark side." With a swish of his wand, the dishes started themselves, and their breakfast table was cleaned in a heartbeat. "You claim you're so behind on your work."

“You know what they say, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” Hermione did have a pile of work, but books were her drug…

“Fine, let’s go. If you’re lucky, my father will rile you up a little, satisfying both your newest hobby.” 

She took his arm and headed to the floo, "Is the little toddler feeling left out?" Pulling his elbow, she brought his face to her mouth and pecked him on the cheek. "You've offered me a tour of the library. I'm collecting my prize."

He crossed his arms at the chest, “Cheeky.”

“You love me anyway.” 

She never knew that his look translated his thought,  _ I might. _


	15. A Fun Park Called Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by my angel Magzillasaurus.

**Chapter 16: A fun park called Library.**

Forget Disneyland.

Entering the Malfoy library was like Christmas and New Year wrapped in one. The room was astonishing, with books neatly sorted in floor-to-ceiling bookcases, many tomes unable to hide their age by the worn look.

"I've moved the archaic English ones all way to the top, several are so outdated in their beliefs, as I've learned." He stood right next to her, breathing in her enthusiasm. It held certain magic to see this place through the eyes of a first timer, to him the library felt a little like furniture, too familiar to feel the excitement each time.

"How do you know they are outdated?" Her eyebrows frowned into a line.

To show instead of telling her, he levitated an old potions book, stopping at random place. "Take this one, for instance, the pepper-up potion by Linfred of Stinchcombe. Tell me if you agree with all the actions."

"Hmm...we don't use mimbulus mimbletonia anymore, the efficiency of mandrake root has been proven ages ago by Glover Hipworth." Browsing through the book, she picked up several issues that sustained Draco's allegation. "I see your point."

"Good to realise you can agree with me without putting up a fight." He laced their fingers to pull her towards another section. Happy with their location, he first turned her around towards the wall side they just abandoned, extending his arm to point out sections, "Over there is everything about potions and ingredients. This one here is about charms, and the opposite wall is all about wizarding law. My ancestors enjoyed collecting a wide variety of law tomes, though we had no solicitors in the family."

Her eyes couldn't widen more, lips slightly open in amazement.

"Ahh... my daughter-in-law is visiting our library. I forgot to offer the use of any of our possessions as a source, in case you needed. I'm glad my son thought so far ahead." Lucius entered the room in his regal way, "Which assignment are you working on, if I may ask?" He grabbed her hand to press a light kiss on the back.

She stammered. Her knuckles being brushed by the Malfoy patriarch's lips did feel odd at best. "I have to finish a task about child custody."

"It always goes to the father, as you know already, unless the witch can prove how unsuitable the wizard is." This was dangerous terrain, Lucius knew. On the other hand, even a blind wizard could see where the pair in front of him was heading. The laced fingers confirmed his suspicions even more, crossing a knowing look with his son. "Something you will not be able to sustain in court, in your case."

A brown eyebrow rose accusingly, "In my case?"

"My dear Hermione. Your wizard isn't a drunk or a criminal, for starters. Two, you'll be filing for a marriage license rather than suing him for said custody."  _He did love to taunt her_ … Lucius summoned a tome with his wand, "I'm more interested in having the best solicitor in the entire Wizarding world as a family member, if not just to brag among my friends. Take this one with you, I'm sure you'll find what you need in there."

Hermione was lost for words. She guessed her brain short-circuited when he called her my dear. Lucius and endearments directed at her person sounded more like a horror movie than reality.

"Thank you, Father, for the suggestion. I was showing her how I've catalogued the entire library." The younger wizard didn't know if he wanted to reprimand his father for the constant nagging about marriage, or if he should laugh instead. Her face was priceless to watch, all her emotions out in the open to read. The perfect victim for a game of poker.

Lucius rose a hand, pleading, "Please son, don't remind me. My dear, the young wizard at your side turned the room upside down, relocating books from their centuries-old places… I'm sure some of our ancestors would scream bloody hell at the atrocity."

"There was zero to no logic, Father. The only order was when they had been purchased." Draco gave his father a desperate look, as usual when the subject came to discussion. "Household charms next to herbology? I cannot imagine Mother looking for advice on how to trim a certain strain of roses in both subjects."

Hermione's lip pulled at a corner, leafing through the book she received from Lucius. A detail crossed her gaze, "Wait a minute, did wizards take newborns away from their mother, right after birth?"

"In the cases where the mother was deemed unfit, yes. I believe in some rural places, it is still common practice." Lucius rubbed a sharper nail, it needed grooming.

"These are practices that originated in the Middle Ages, for Merlin's sake!" She stared furiously at Draco, finger in the air, "Don't you even dare to consider this, or you'll chew your balls."

He rose both hands in defence, "Hey, I don't agree with any of it, Hermione. Don't accuse me proactively!"

"Just a friendly warning." She imitated Lucius nail rubbing, receiving a look of appraisal from the older Malfoy. The mumbled  _forewarned is forearmed_ from said wizard made her chuckle, forcing her to realise that no one would believe her if she told them how sassy the man was when at ease.

"Father, at this point you're more of an inconvenience than an asset." The last thing Draco expected was this girl bonding with his father against him,  _Salazar's saggy tits_. The waving hand became a last minute flexed fist, it was, after all, a gesture you didn't flash your parents.

To Hermione's amusement, Lucius ignored the polite request to buzz off choosing a seat instead to occupy, "If I'm not in your way, son. Please do continue…"

A grey pair of eyes rolled, there was only so much a man could bear. Draco took a deep breath and continued, "Let me show you the section you'll appreciate if I can judge you well."

The spark in the pair of brown eyes flashed brightly, "Which do you expect it to be?"

With his hands on her shoulders, Draco guided her to a different part, slightly secluded at first sight, "Advanced magic?"

For the first time since they arrived, she faltered in her steps, hesitating, "Does it include…"

He scrunched his face, pausing, "Will you bring us trouble if I'm honest?"

"Depends on the subjects...Draco we fought a war, remember?" Somehow the reluctant thought of snitching on him collided strongly with her sense of justice. "Don't corner me, please Draco."

"Rest assured, those have been confiscated by the Ministry during one of their oh so pleasant home visits, but we still have some that can be considered grey zoned. Sometimes, the dark magic is the best answer to problems white magic can't solve." He was taking a leap of faith, but he refused to lie.

Pulling a thick, worn-out edition, he showed her what he meant. The yellow pages held that parchment scent she loved so much, and she was enthralled by the words he was pointing out with his finger, "See this one uses a strong venom of a Vipera Berus, the common adder, to counteract the bite of an Acromantula, while its harvesting could be filed under 'not so appropriate technique'."

"Similar to the use of cannabis in the Muggle world, it can be a medicine while others foremostly see it as an illegal drug; while it has been proven to alleviate pain in specific cases." She bobbed her head asking for the silent acknowledgement, "These books aren't dark magic per se, but if it fell on the wrong hands…"

"Exactly." It was as if a weight fell off his shoulders. Her understanding demeanour meant loads to him, "But I've read almost all of them, and some are really captivating. A couple even included pagan traditions, which makes me strongly doubt its efficiency."

From afar, Lucius followed the conversation. He grew apprehensive when Draco walked over to the more obscure section, unsure of the judgement of the brunette, Yet, he relaxed when he saw her comprehend Draco's interest. Of course, the most offensive books were hidden under his own set of powerful wards, letting his son believe they were gone for the boy's sake.

The Ministry had only taken those he had allowed them to see, Lucius was a Malfoy after all, to let such wealth slip through his fingers - no matter how dark - was plainly ridiculous.

He had no plans whatsoever to bring those books out of their confinement, the dark past was behind him, for good. Lucius Malfoy had learned his lesson and had a front row seat while watching the aftermath almost destroy his family, unforgivingly. But those dark tomes… nope, those would remain Malfoy possessions until his last breath.

"Son, there's another interesting section to your right, don't forget to show them to my new daughter." Lucius rose to his feet, sly smile around his face, heading to the door to give the two a bit of privacy, "They can be very educating…"

Hermione caught up mostly thanks to Draco's blush, "Are those the ones you use nowadays to help you out, perhaps? With your advanced age, I understand certain functions might start to falter..."

One wizard's head whipped from left to right, lost between embarrassment - his father talking about the erotic editions was not a subject he was planning to reveal while the man was in the room, at least - and amusement, the witch had a quick tongue and witty answers.

The funniest part? His father imitating a fish, gasping for air while searching for an appropriate return. Draco was confident that this image would later return and be a source of amusement between the couple.

"I'll call it as I see it. I believe Hermione won this round over your father, Draco." Narcissa joined them, not even hiding the glint of pleasure. "Though rest assured my dear Hermione, my husband has no performance issues. Consider the suggestions in such works as a source of inspiration or in some cases complete hilarity, I believe certain positions of the Kama Sutra are only possible for very agile couples."

Don't ask Hermione how it started, but she was certain it began with two fingers against the bridge of the nose, a full grin rising from her lips before she ended up cracking in bursts of laughter which made her belly hurt in the end.

Narcissa smirked in a conspiracy, leaving both wizards watching the display, baffled. Lucius' mouth, however, jerked with a barely contained smirk - totally Malfoy-unworthy - but hell if he gave two knuts about it.

"Narcissa, where's this particular volume? I want to confirm your theory… in the name of science, you know?" A flick of a wand followed, and the book landed in her hands, "Can I borrow it, or will you need the book tonight?"

The answer followed promptly, as poised as possible, "I'm certain that we can miss it for a night or two...we have other sources at our disposal, sources that you're more than welcome to explore... in the name of, how did you call it again? Research? Yes, that was it, in the name of research." A perfectly painted nailed gave the entire response the final killer touch.

Draco cleared his throat, "I believe it's time for us to go for lunch." His sex-life wasn't a subject he wanted his parents to be well-informed of. Yet, the little devil on his shoulder revelled in the Slytherin traits his witch displayed. His teeth had bitten his lip more than once while both women traded suggestions.

Narcissa faced him, "Don't you want to join us for lunch?"

His mind thought  _Nope, I need to get out of here before you and my witch start discussing positions,_  but his mouth said, "Thank you mother, but I promised Hermione a visit to the Italian."

Fortunately, Hermione followed him, "Yes, Narcissa, thank you for the invitation, we'll join you another time, but I have to return home. If I stay here, there's no way I'll be working on my assignment today."

"So you know, you don't need Draco at your side to visit us. You're always welcome, my dear… you and me against Lucius, you know…" Narcissa winked.

The older Malfoy wasn't enjoying the conversation so much, pursing his lips while snorting, only as a pose. Because the face he showed them was the complete opposite of what he thought,  _this Gryffindor winds me around her finger outside her knowledge, thank Salazar she hasn't figured it out yet._

Narcissa, however, knew.

-oOo-

The juices escaped through the corners of her mouth, as Hermione bit into her thick pastrami sandwich with a moan.

"That good eh, witch? But tell me, what's better? The food or bantering with my father about his sexual prowess?" Draco cleaned his lips on a napkin after devouring half of his first grilled cheese. He was a man with needs, and one small toastie wasn't going to fill his stomach.

"Seeing your father speechless is hilarious, any way you slice it." She covered her mouth with a hand between talking and chewing, until she swallowed, "Tell me, have you read those books too?"

Two blond eyebrows disappeared under a fringe, "Do you feel neglected? Am I failing you in any way?" His pumpkin juice flushed his bite before he sank his teeth with conviction in the new half, not for once stopping staring her in the eye.

"Just trying to assess your knowledge…" A string of lettuce was fished from her fingers by her tongue, "Do you feel attacked too?"

The grey darkened, "I'm challenging you to writing a dissertation of three feet parchment on your position of choice. Why it appeals to you...you know the drill, right?"

"Will it be an oral examination, professor?" If it was sassy he wanted, it would be sassy he was getting. The book in question was safely inside her handbag, a feather-light spell charming its weight.

"I expect you in your school uniform, including the tie. You may forfeit the… on a second thought...no...no special treatment, it's time this Slytherin wizard teaches the lioness how to behave."

Hermione leaned closer, shoving her plate with the rest of her sandwich to the side, "The lioness has teeth and claws, you know?"

Draco closed the remaining distance, "I'm not afraid of a little cub." She was getting ready to reply, but his lips prevented such. He pulled back with a smack, finding extra pleasure in the way she blinked, "Eat your plate empty, I have a small library to pack and expect my assignment to be ready by tonight."

She narrowed her eyes pursing the lips, "You...ferret…"

His answer?

Waggling eyebrows.


	16. Egyptian Cotton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I hit a writer's block on this one while I know the ending by heart, something I cooked together with my Marlygrl94. Anyway, I'm sharing this chapter freshly beta'ed by my lovely Magzillasaurus.
> 
> Remember the Kama Sutra book... yeah so do I... *enter sneaky puss-in-boots smile here* 

 

**Chapter 17: Egyptian Cotton**

"I'm athletic, but I doubt I can pull this one off." Draco sat comfortably on her couch, feet on the coffee table, leafing through the sex book. Earlier, he had piled boxes in a corner filled with her books, neatly catalogued by genre followed by author alphabetically. For the first box, she stood by like a general making sure he did treat her precious treasures with caution; for the second, he gained free reign. Lucky him.

In the meantime, Hermione filled her parchment, foot after foot; consulting, huffing and fisting her hands indignantly depending on the passage she read from Lucius' law tome. The ancient laws on child custody needed a serious brushing up, in her eyes, to end the male supremacy the Wizengamot still applied today, based on Middle-Age assumptions that women were only good to cook, clean, bear children,  _and to spread their legs when their Lord said so…_  she thought enraged.

But each time her rage threatened to overflow, a certain wizard would dump his book into her hands, open to a particular page, its illustration leaving nothing to the imagination. If looking at the picture wasn't enough, he added his five knuts, giving her his unrequested opinion about the possibility of execution. He spared her no detail, describing a position or two to the tiniest point. The fire of her anger became an arousing flame every single time.

"What is it now?" She wondered if her knickers were still salvageable, drenched as they felt. Hermione had reached the end of her assignment, only editing it mildly where necessary. But the last inches of her parchment was written under duress -  _I admire my performance under such pressure_. The onslaught of graphical descriptions that Draco kept showing: a man orally satisfying a woman, or an erotic position that she had honestly never thought of… well, probably only a nun was immune.

"The bridge." He rose to his feet, dumping the heavy book between her hands, successfully covering her parchment underneath. "I'm supposed to make a bridge while you straddle me to fuck my brains out."

The suggestive image seemed impossible, "Draco, I don't think it has anything to do with athletic talent as much as acrobatics. Not only do you need to keep all fours with your check and back in a nice curve, but I must also be careful not to bounce too much on your waist, or you fall promptly on your arse." She paused for a second before her eyes got a malicious glint, "Wait a minute, I should test your abs…"

Abandoning her assignment - it was finished anyway - she walked to the coffee table, pushing it aside, "Here, I created space. Do your bridge, let us test my horse riding capabilities."

"Huh... no." This particular position looked ridiculous to him,  _how can you enjoy a woman if your head is so far away?_  He was a man that loved to worship her tities. "I'm not acrobatic as you said." He couldn't see the benefits of curving his back...

"Nonsense, your Quidditch training gave you a decent set of abdominals, all that flying on a broom...I'm not undressing, I just want to test the feeling."

Hell, but his plan did not include only suggesting, "No." He sat down ostentatiously. "If you're not getting naked, there's no need to play."

"I knew it… you're a coward." Picking up Lucius checking nails stance, she watched him under her eyelashes. "Oh well… I'll have to find someone else for that sixty-nine…"

"Witch…" It barely took a second for him to be on his feet and approach her like a predator, a step at a time.

"You don't scare me...Malfoy men are really all bark but no bite. Page after page, you shoved me images of doggy-style, reverse-cowgirl, lotus blossoms and Morgana knows what else. But, now that I ask to test a daring position, you block me!" If he didn't satisfy her tonight then she would take the matter into her own hands, desire burned hot in her veins.

She paid better attention than first thought, the minx. "I'm not asking you to demonstrate the lustful leg, darling!"

"As if I can stretch my leg onto your shoulder. I'm not made from rubber, Draco." Hermione stepped into his personal space, feeling his breath warm her blushing cheeks. "If I spread it that high, I fear never to be able to walk again!"

"Tit for tat, love. I'm open to trying one of those  _clasps_ , I trust my core power enough to fuck you from beneath while holding you up by your arse and back." He was pacing her against a wall. "Or a  _handstand-_ "

"Oh no we don't... that one looks like a game I used to play at school. You're not pushing me forward holding me by the hips, while I stand on both hands." It  _was_ the first thought that came to mind watching the illustration.  _How many races didn't she have with her friends during a break?_

"You played such erotic games at nursery school?" Huh, did he miss something as a kid?

"Not erotic, you tosser. We held each other's legs in our hands while stepping forward, well, like pushing a plough!" The brunette swatted him on the head. "We were toddlers, for Merlin's sake!"

"Anyway, I'm not servicing you tonight, lady. You haven't completed your task yet!" Crossing his arms at chest height, he looked down on a flushed face, between them only room to breathe.

"My task is finished and edited, ready for delivery."

"I meant the task I gave you…"

Excuse me, in that case, I need to find a bloke to satisfy my needs."

What followed next was a blur of movements that took her breath away, though they shot electric sparks into her core. The hands she used to push against his pectorals were caught, lifted and pinned against the wall while he spun her, all in a matter of seconds. She faced the wall, all of a sudden, her wrists squeezed by a fist in a vice-hold, while the free hand dug between the waist of her pants to cup her sex, a digit founding its way into her drenched heat.

The warmth of his breath tickled her earlobe, and his commanding voice had her clenching around his finger. "This pussy belongs to me. Any wizard pawing my woman will face my wrath. You can refuse to carry the Malfoy name or my ring, but don't make a mistake to think that I don't own you."

"Fuck…" His finger and its companion rubbed that one spot which made her see stars. "Draco…"

"You and I will enact many of those positions… starting now…" Her core felt empty when he redrew his fingers only long enough to free his hard shaft and to guide it inside her, "Keep your hands right here, witch." He patted the back of her palms, unbuttoning a sufficient amount of her blouse to release her tits, groping the soft mounds and drawing those sounds he loved to hear.

"That's it… let me hear your pleasure, witch. Do you know why I don't want to ' _bridge'_?" The hand at her hips held her in place so he could punctuate his opinion with each thrust, "I have no access to these responsive nipples, I can't tease them, pinch them, feel them tighten under my palm."

Her pants had fallen to her ankles at this point, and she kicked them away to find better grounding during his onslaught. Her throaty moans mixed with his grunting; neither of them was going to last long. "We are testing ' _from behind'_ , but I want to switch to another one...the ' _perch'_."

He pulled free, and guided her to the table, the Kama Sutra still open to the " _bridge_ " chapter. He sat down first and made her straddle his lap, back to his chest, her thighs draped over his legs. His cock found its way quickly into her pussy, assisted by her small hand. In the meantime, while thrusting tentatively, he flipped a group of pages in one move, letting it randomly fall on the ' _Tominagi'_. "This one will have to be tested before your belly grows too big...it will stand in the way when I push your knees against your chest."

She could picture it easily, him kneeling before her, while her feet rested on his chest, legs bent towards her bosom. The text mentioned this was a perfect position for deep penetration. Hermione couldn't take her eyes off the illustration, while his cock rutted from beneath, his hands driving her hard against his pelvis. "Fuck...oh Draco…"

"Yes, babe, take my cock… that's so hot to see you rub your clit. Tweak the other nipple…" His hand possessed the free breast, copying her tugging. "You're so wet...my cock glides inside your scorching pussy…woman...my cock belongs inside your quim, witch, my hard... dick… and… no... one... else's!" His rhythm became erratic, a relentless pounding of flesh against flesh, mewls and grunts mingling in the air.

Her sight went black, intoxicated by his voice, his ministrations, and the flames of arousal consuming her. She sagged against his chest after releasing a cry and feeling a gush of wetness trail down her legs. The clenching of her heat around his member and the jerking of her hips ignited his own release, pulsing inside her for what seemed like an endless stream of cum.

When she threatened to slide off his lap, her legs giving out from exhaustion, he wrapped his arms around her to pull her higher, his softening member slipping away from its warm cocoon. "I like this  _Perch_. One we'll revisit in the future, even with a belly."

Hermione only nodded, panting, her energy didn't allow more anyway. Luckily, his thighs had still had enough strength to carry her to bed and spoon behind her after covering her naked behind with a fresh pair of knickers and tugging his own arse inside an abandoned pair of trunks.

"My father will not get his book back," Draco spoke, his lips brushing the skin of her shoulder blades.

"Aren't you curious to know which is his preferred page?" She chuckled huskily.

"I don't need the image, woman." He scraped his teeth the curve of her shoulder. "In my view, they are too old to fuck."

Hermione roared at this, "Says every child about their parents. Wait until this one imagines the same about us…" her hand patting the barely present bump.

His big hand covered hers, "He's too young to reflect on such details."

-oOo-

The week flew by, in Hermione's opinion.

Her wellness day with Narcissa Malfoy was, to put it mildly, enlightening. Not only did the woman bring her a book belonging to the Black legacy and passed on from witch to witch, about how to pleasure your man, so he was putty in your hands, " _You have no idea how many times Lucius caved into my wishes after a few of these instructions…_ " The Malfoy Matriarch also made sure that the younger witch was spoiled with the best treatments befitting a Malfoy.

When the brunette commented that she wasn't a Malfoy, the riposting followed immediately, "It's only semantics, darling. My son treats you like my husband does - the interlude with that noseless bastard aside, of course, you have no idea how much I regret the entire issue. I should have put my foot down or even threatened with divorce to end the madness."

"Do you think Lucius would have chosen you above Voldemort?" The question was everything but farfetched.

"He believed that he was doing the right thing to keep our family in the highest in regard, aligning with the strongest side. We know better by now, of course, our family has paid a high price - justified, by all means, you'll not hear me deny it." Narcissa's gaze bore into Hermione's, "It's known that you can't accuse a Malfoy of direct interference but if one looks close enough, he'll find the strands of Malfoy's interference along the path. Lucius actions weren't hidden, his participation is undeniable, and I blame him for all the misery we went through, the pain we caused and how our beliefs were faulty, downright cruel."

The conversation stilled Hermione, she was unprepared to hear such an openhearted confession.

"Our prejudice against your blood was unjustified and unreasonable. Lucius should have never taught the meaning of that foul word to our son. I regret it tremendously, but I hope that one day, you can forgive us." Narcissa patted Hermione's knee. "I would like you to consider us family, with time. Even if you refuse to use the Malfoy name."

The silence following this exchange was short-lived, as the older witch recalled episodes where Lucius bent the knee… Hermione would have never guessed.

-oOo-

Saturday.

Moving day.

Briefly explained: chaos.

Between the four wizards, Draco, Ron, Harry and Blaise her old furniture, household items and all other belongings were quickly transferred into her new home, unless they turned out to be unusable and got stacked inside the barn behind the house.

Pansy and Ginny took care of packing all her clothes and linen, while Susan took care of the little green inside her tiny apartment.

But everything happened under the barking orders of Pansy, the self-proclaimed sergeant who took it upon herself to comment on the quality of her bedsheets and towels. "This is sandpaper you're drying yourself with, not even my familiar wants to feel his fur patted with this. And these...these sheets are rougher than my mothers' old rags. Draco, you must buy her Egyptian cotton towels and satin sheets!"

"Pansy, they are fine to me…"  _Can't she mind her own business?_

"Nonsense, us witches deserve only the best for our comfort." A twitch on Draco's face stopped the dark-haired witch from continuing her ranting, discovering later the reason for the silent signal.

In the bathroom, instead of the plain cotton fabric, was a tower of top-of-the-line fluffy towels in the same colour neatly stacked in place of Hermione's set.

Her brand new mattress was covered by a duvet, but its soft grey case was magically replaced by similar coloured satin fabric, as soon as the witch moved to the lower floor.

One wasn't a Slytherin just in name…

-oOo-

"DRACO MALFOY!" She knew he was downstairs, admiring the hearth and its comforting flame. It took a few attempts before the blond wizard and Harry succeeded in getting the fire going, while Blaise and Ron kept giving their habitually unuseful opinions about how to get it started.

The wizard flinched at the summon and lingered a little longer, hoping to evade the wrath.

"DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! Get your ferrety arse upstairs!" Maybe lingering wasn't a good idea, the tone rose in volume the second time.  _Oh, well, better not delay the sentence any longer and let her give me a piece of her mind._  Take it as a strong wizard…

She stood in the middle of her bathroom with an arm outstretched, the finger pointing at her towels, "Those aren't mine. Where are they?"

"Phht." His hand waved in the air.

"Did you make them disappear?"

"No." Technically, he wasn't lying. It had been Pansy after he showed her  _the_  box.

"But you know of their disappearance?" It felt like Umbridges' Inquisition. A frown on the forehead, squinted eyes and pursed mouth.

"I might."

"Draco...this wasn't part of our arrangement, you know?" With her jaw grounded, she returned to her bedroom, stopping at her bed.

Cautiously, he followed suit, but stayed at a safe distance, she hadn't found out about that other one yet. "You'll love them, it will feel like your drying your skin on a cloud blanket. Not that scraping paper you call cotton."  _If I give her my most charming smile, will it help?_

"What do you know-" Her retort was interrupted half-way.

"Last time I showered at your place two days ago, if I'm not mistaken. My skin was subjected to the roughest cloth ever, I looked like a lobster..."  _How much fuss can a woman make because of soft cloths?_

Releasing a deep breath, she sat down on her bed, to rise almost immediately as if she was bitten by a bee.

His fingers covered her lips before she had the time to argue, "Yes, these are new too. Deal with it, I'm taking care of you. Consider them my welcome-home or congratulations about your new home-gifts, what-ever you want to call them." The hand was quickly replaced by his lips, "Now, take that bath you were long after, I'm going back to the Manor."

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't want you to spend money on me? I'm more than capable…" His lips muted her once again.

"Sometimes I have hearing problems…" She swatted in the air, as he disapparated right on time.

Yet later, there was no denying that fluffy towels did feel like heaven and the satin sheets were so soft that she fell asleep nearly immediately, feeling like a queen…  _damn ferret._


	17. Phase Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *winks while offering this new chapter* Always grateful for Magzillasaurus' editing help :)

**Chapter 18: Phase Three**

Anyone who has moved into a new home will agree: settling into your new place is not a walk in the park. The following weeks Hermione divided her attention between attending classes, catching up on the to-do pile of academic jobs - which luckily were shrinking by the day, and shifting stuff until it was all to her taste.

The original place of her cutlery, plates and cups changed every day in the first week. Draco would mumble that he couldn't find a mug in the cupboard where it stood the day before… The few boxes left to unpack, mainly clothing, also shrank though they did move to other drawers a few times, similarly to the hangers and their new locations.

"What the hell are you doing?" Draco guessed he aged ten years in the space of seconds…

"My library isn't fully to my taste." She dangled with one foot on a bench, to shove a book between two other tomes.

"Why don't you use levitation?" Without waiting for permission, he grabbed her by the waist to set her down, only seeing her climb back the next second, "Witch! You're fifteen weeks pregnant, do you want to fall off and hurt yourself  _and_ my baby?"

"Mr. Malfoy, that was my intention all along, you know? To test how hard it hurts." She explained dead-panned first, rolling with her eyes next, "You're a tosser. I'm perfectly safe, I know what I'm doing."

This time, he put her back on the floor and moved the bench away, "Tell me what I have to do."

"Start by getting your pale arse out of my house, I didn't call for grumpy Draco." Her wand was stuck between her fingers, hands on the sides of her slightly expanding waist. Stubborn as she was, Hermione walked to the bench and reached to pick it up, only to see it fly away from her grasp. "You're playing with fire, git. I didn't ask for your permission."

"I'm seriously questioning your common sense. Which section do you want to relocate?" He twirled the wand between his fingers as if it was a drumstick.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!"

"Nice you know my full name, now before I lose my patience...which section do you want to change? I thought you agreed with the initial placement, and that I've managed to restore your library as it was in your tiny apartment." He put his body literally in the way, mirroring her attempts to sneak between.

"You did, but I have more space here… the contemporary historical romance novels should be lower than household charms, I read those seldom as Molly teaches me a new one, every time I visit the Burrow." She stomped her foot, in frustration.

"Alright." A few wand flicks later, and the books were now on their new shelf. Annoyed, he turned down a corner of his mouth, "What else?"

"Nothing, it's all done…"

Draco wasn't fooled by her sugar sweet tone, "What...else?"

"Nothing, I said it already. By the way, why are you here?" He accompanied her to the prenatal check yesterday, but never mentioned returning today.

"I left some papers in your office yesterday, I need those for the meeting with the Chinese PM in two days."

"You seem to forget all your paperwork in my home nowadays." It wasn't his documents anymore, a shirt or two hung in her closet neatly pressed thanks to a Molly-trick, following a sleepover and the need to change quickly into new clothes before an important meeting.

"Are they standing in your way?" He looked at her sideways, so-called unaffected. Leaving his work behind wasn't by accident, it was deliberate manoeuvre. Making his presence become something familiar to her. Part of his plan to make himself a permanent fixture in her life.

He was present during the last prenatal check, the next one was written in red on his calendar, and he had already cancelled any appointment settled within the space of two months around the birth. No way his work was going to keep him from assisting the labour, nor during those first weeks of his newborn's life.

When Draco spent a night at the Manor - staying over every night wasn't yet a conquered milestone in his plan, but he was almost there - he devoured all the literature he could find about the further development of her pregnancy, what he should expect during birth and beyond.

"I thought you were more precise with your Ministry work, I wonder where else you forget important documents." Hermione folded the bench to set away but saw her burden be hijacked by the blond who cleared it away into the storage room. "Why are you intervening with everything I do?" She scoffed.

"I have three words for you:  _You are pregnant_." The voice came from a distance before the wizard showed up, "You shouldn't be dragging weights around. Plus, I am precise with my work, that's why I know exactly where my documents are since I touched them the last time."

"Is your father like this too? Taking tasks away from your mother's hands?" Her right foot ticked impatiently against the wooden floor.

"No, my father orders the elves to do it for him. When you're finally able to comprehend that Tibby loves to serve, you don't have to drag things into the storage room. Until then, I'll intervene whenever necessary." The small shake of his head followed the raising finger, "Uhhuh, deal with it, little lioness."

"I have the feeling that I'm abusing her." Hermione knew that Tibby loved her new Wonder Woman costume, especially the golden cuffs, but  _could she continue trading cosplay suits for the provided assistance?_  The thought floated in her head while she stretched the forefinger in the air, "Don't you dare to susurrate any idea to Tibby again, or I'll block the Floo to you, Draco!"

A week after moving in, an "unknown" devil had hinted to the house-elf that the new home could use a decent cleaning, and Hermione had been forced to accept the help, after an emotional bout of blackmail coming from a creature that barely reached her hip.

"Whatever." He still had his mother as a back-up plan, for such cases, "Anyway, I also came to ask you if you want to be my plus one. Goyle is getting married to Millicent, in two weeks and I received an invitation to attend." He had already sent the rsvp to its destination, including the ticked ' _comes_   _with a plus one'_ , the question was merely proforma.

"Us attending a wedding will only feed the questioning about our own date, Draco." The nagging had diminished substantially, a fact she thanked the Gods for but being present at a celebration might revive the gossip.

"Greg is a good friend of mine, Hermione. Not the smartest I know and my younger idiotic self dragged him and Vin into the madness of the war. Believe me, after all this time, I still feel responsible for Crabbe's death." He rested his bum against the dinner table, crossing his arms at chest height. "I want to attend and pay him the honour he deserves, but going alone will only feed more rumours."

"Everyone will ask about our date, I can hear already the criticism, Draco." The hurt in his tone made it harder to refuse her presence.

"Why do you allow other people's comments to intrude in your daily life?" With a few steps, he stood before her, pushing strands of brown hair away from her forehead, "Unless you're changing your mind, and you don't know how to phrase it?"

"Don't start, Draco. I like how we're evolving, the difference between us at that mystery dinner and us today is like night and day, but I'm fine with how we're progressing. We are friends, maybe more than friends but I need more time." It had been a while since the subject of marriage had made an appearance, but her decision hadn't changed yet.

She cared for him, it was stupid to pretend otherwise; physically they matched like no other, and she was discovering a soft, caring side that she would never have attributed to Draco Malfoy, ferret extraordinaire.

It was not solely limited to keeping her cupboards filled with what she liked the most. It was welcoming her with a delicious meal every Tuesday, as it always ended with a late afternoon class. The little touching while walking next to her towards the prenatal consults or to the Saturday brunches at Malfoy Manor, the Sunday nowadays reserved for the Burrow. His apparent effort to be friendly to Ron and Harry - the ginger and the blond wizard finding in chess a common interest; the score remaining surprisingly equal. The first match and the one that followed were more about the settling of scores minus the bloodshed. Ginny uttered, astonished, "We should have put these two earlier in front of a chess board earlier!"

From then on, it became a routine after lunch, Susan sitting firmly by Ron - the big palm rubbing the growing belly, while Hermione stayed at Draco's left, often with her legs over his own thigh, a hand rubbing her skin mindlessly while focusing on his next move.

Ginny often pointed out how comfortable Hermione and Draco acted around each other; Harry simply gave Hermione a curled agreeing smile very like Molly's minus the shaking head.

Maybe they were cosy **.**

In the space of a little less than the two months since she moved, not only was she living in the house of her dreams, her new normal entailed him taking into account her school schedule while setting up his own calendar, or cooking a meal together on another day and staying over for the occasional night. He kept her cupboards full, she made sure that something was baked for his sweet tooth.

"I want to attend the wedding with you at my side. I'm not ashamed of us, nor of our baby, you know it. Fuck all those who think they know better, it's  _our_  decision. I'm fine with how we're progressing, little lioness. I have access to your brain, your delectable body, and you're giving me the most precious gift."  _Time to launch phase three - live together._  "Ideally, you allow me to move in and share your life. The ring on your finger or my name instead of Granger or even hyphenated is no longer a requirement, if anything, the perfect finishing touch."

His fingers pressed against her lips before she could launch a comment. "Hermione, I like spending time here, I enjoy the cooking, the reading, and the sleeping together beyond the shagging; I like every second of it. The Manor doesn't feel like home anymore, your house does."

"Our house." It was her name on the documents, but it was his money. For the time being… "I don't know, it's a big step..."

"Are you going with me to the wedding?" After releasing a long breath, she nodded, raising a radiant smile on his face, "Will you wear the dusty rose gown from madame Chanel and ask my mother's hairdresser for help?"

"Do you really want to live together?" The truth was she slept better if he occupied the other side of the bed. Talking about an interesting article in the shared Daily Prophet, or even discussing one of the law subjects from her studies; breakfast was never lonely when he was present. Or how she disliked more and more to see him walk away through the Floo late at night. The goodbye kiss always tasted a little bittersweet.

"Only if you are fully in agreement, not only to do me a favor." He read her internal fight in her eyes, only refraining from smiling smugly, thanks to the Malfoy talent to control emotions. His third phase was making himself indispensable, a visible success knowing how she clamped onto his pillow when he spent a night at the Manor.

Tibby was more than a little household elf, outside her knowledge. The elf was a downright romantic soul and his best ally as soon as she figured out her Master's plans early on. Nowadays, she reported back to him how Hermione slept during a lonely night, her nose buried in the crease of his pillow to inhale his scent.

On the other hand, he came to realise how much he missed her presence during one of those lonely Manor-nights. How he grew used to the feminine leg intruding between his, the little female snores or her delectable behind rubbing sleepily against his morning wood; his hand cupping the small swell of her belly, wishing his baby could bump a high-five already.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this big step," The idea was everything but repulsive. "Give me-"

"Hermione, it will only happen if you are fully on board, I'm simply suggesting an idea." Draco showed her both palms, before heading to her refrigerator and grabbing a beer bottle - a habit he picked up from Harry after a barbeque at Grimmauld Place, which continued during the hangouts with his fellow Slytherin mates, Theo and Blaise. Lately, they branched out to new brands, expanding their taste beyond the British frontiers. Learning in the meantime, how the Guinness beer turned to be a hard nut to crack; Draco couldn't recall being so pissed after three pints.

"What if you meet a witch that tickles your interest?" Hermione leaned against the sink, biting a nail, her other arm cradling the opposite elbow.

"Do you think I'm going to keep an eye out for a side piece while we're living together? I'm not playing games with you, I intend to explore us...see if there's more binding us together than a baby made during a spur of the moment tryst." Her doubt sounded incredulous in his mind,  _how could she think so low of him?_  "I'm not a man that sleeps around when I'm with a witch, Hermione."

"You see us…" The nerves raged in her veins, the hands not knowing what to do.

"I see us together at this stage where we're assessing the other, deciding if what we have is worth fighting for. Look, I hate the idea of living a life with you in co-parenthood, or however the Muggles call it. I don't want to split my son's life between your week and my week. I want to give him the kind of childhood you and I had: both parents under the same roof…" Draco placed the half-empty beer bottle behind him, to stand inside her personal space. "We match on the physical level, and on the intellectual one..."

Hermione hummed in agreement.

"Now we've set aside our animosity, I discovered an intriguing Gryffindor witch that keeps me on the tip of my toes." Draco brushed her cheek with the back of his curved fingers, "A witch who doesn't bore me to death with useless chatter and gossip."

"Help me remember this for when I see Pansy again."  _So I can see how your ex-girlfriend will smack your head after such a confession_.

"I thought you were on my side, little lioness." He kissed her hard on the lips, letting her taste the last of his beer. "Just think about it, please."

Draco turned to leave, but her hand held him up, "Do you mean what you said? That you're loyal to the witch you're with?"

His expression hardened slightly, "I slept around while  _I_  was single. Ask Pansy or even As-fucking-toria, none can accuse me of cheating on them. That's not my style, woman. But if I'm a free wizard, I enjoy what's being offered... I'm a man, after all."

"What are you now?"  _What were they? Could you call his stay-overs or their cosy evenings including the cooking and reading a book or working on papers after dinner, a relationship?_

"I'm not single." He didn't consider himself in a relationship either, what they had was difficult to describe.

"Do you really want to do this?" Their relationship had started the utterly opposite way. There was no guide on how to proceed, nor any person who might have an answer. Could she deny her baby the chance of a real family without even trying? Could he be more than just the father? A true life partner? Their animosity had died a silent death, indeed. He showed her his caring side, and for her part, she tried to meet him in the middle. Even Lucius Malfoy showed her his best behaviour…

"Is there a script for us? Someone's lead we can follow? What I know is this: Spending time with you isn't a burden, neither is waking up next to your face. I want you to go with me to that wedding because I'm proud to have you at my side." The last words that followed were whispered against her lips, "There might be feelings involved by now also…"

"Draco…" The small hand rose to cup his unshaven jaw, "Maybe...I…"

"You set the pace, Hermione, but let us try... share our lives together." He was taking her breath away with his soft voice, the caressing of fingers down her arms, over her belly, and all the way up again to her neck.

His Slytherin mind knew that her battle was easing its way into his favour by the way she hung on his lips; his patience finally paid off, with her whispered answer, "I want to try too…"

It took all his self-control to not cheer on the spot or bump a fist in the air; instead, his lips surrounded hers, in a searing kiss, pressing her frame tightly against his body and a hand cradling her little passenger.

"We'll do it slowly, I won't stay tonight, so you have some time to overthink, tomorrow we'll cook that Italian chicken with pasta we both love to eat, and we take it from there...if you're still on board, I'll move in after Greg's wedding." He gambled that if he gave her time to think maybe she wouldn't drown in anxiety. Spend tomorrow night together, then one alone, followed by two consecutive and so on. Not impose but don't give her the room to reconsider either…

His presence was felt, appreciated and wanted by now, Draco's phase two goal. Now, his third phase consisted of simply joining their lives together. Every time he left her, his heart remained behind, it was the time to up his game. The L-word wasn't so far away anymore.


	18. Strawberries Part I

**Chapter 19: Strawberries part I**

She had fallen asleep last night in her usual way, clutching his pillow between her arms as she ruminated about their next step. Now, all her mind troubles returned while she stirred her tea absently, sitting by the window at Madame Puddifoot's.

Draco moving in seemed a big step, but none of her reasons was strong enough to change her decision. Looking at the man he was today, what could she complain about?

He was straight forward with his opinions, but far from the git who hurt her at every corner. The filled pantry, the feet rubbing, how he was considerate of her and above all, how he never refrained from telling her how proud he was.

' _There might be feelings involved_ ' he'd said.

_Morgana, had her heart flipped a three-sixty at his comment. How far were her feelings for him?_

He made her laugh, riled her up as many times, and don't get her started on how perfectly he could play her. With Ron and her other former lovers, experiencing the peak was occasionally the case. She never complained about it, because Hermione considered this normal, coming at every shagging happened only in romantic novels, or so she thought.

Nowadays she knew better, Draco brought her to the seventh heaven at least once, every time. Sometimes during foreplay, others withholding his own desire until she peaked around his member. His title was more than earned.

"You have to share with your overly pregnant sister what is making you blush so deeply." Finally, Ginny joined her, though she was more than a half hour late.

"The tea is too hot." Hermione blushed even redder.

"Are you taking me for a fool? I bet it has everything to do with that blond Slytherin of yours. Tell me, has he taken you against the wall, like in one of those erotic novels we love to read, and you're still reliving it?" Her ice-tea arrived together with a large cut of chocolate cake, followed by a warning glare, "No comment, I need a sugar punch."

Hermione grinned, "I won't." In fact, her own slice of raspberry cheesecake was already consumed, and its size had been more than generous.

"Spill the beans sister, were you thinking about Malfoy's well-shaped arse?" Ginny riposted Hermione's surprised stare, "I'm not into snakes, but I'm not blind either. Your blond is a pleasure for the eye if he keeps his snark in check."

"He's not my blond." It sounded weak, even in her own ears.

"If he's not your blond, then I'm not a Weasley." Ginny's dark gaze shouted silently to cut the bullshite.

"He asked to move in." The words were blurted out before Hermione could hold them in, her teacup all of a sudden more than interesting.

"I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner. I mean how many nights a week doesn't he spend at your place?" The fork swung to the right, making a point before it dove inside an awaiting mouth.

"I know…" For a second, she lost her focus, staring at a mother hushing her curly headed toddler out of the tea parlour. This would be her in a few years, but instead of dark curls hopefully, it would be a blond head instead. Secretly, she hoped her son would take after his father in looks.

"Are you overthinking things again? Woman, what are you afraid of?" A frustrated hand shot out to guide a brown pair of eyes back to her face. "I'm not talking about you shackling yourself to Mr. Goldy-looks. I'm talking about you giving him a real chance at courting you, at building something solid with you and in the meantime having a shot at the family life you long so much after!"

"Ginny, I'm afraid he'll dump me at some point. I'm not a pureblood witch, groomed to the nines on how to host guests, I'm expecting his parents will start sabotaging us, at any given time."

"I'm blaming all that crap on pregnancy craziness because you make zero sense. I mean you've gone public as a pair! If the Malfoy's sabotaged you at this very moment, it would be social suicide for them." The red in Ginny's cheeks did not lie. It was the time that Hermione faced a few facts. "Only those that live under a rock don't know you're having Draco Malfoy's heir."

Hermione whimpered behind her teacup.

Ginny was on a roll, plate shoved to the side to make room for her elbows, "Be honest with me, are you falling head over heels with the git?" The scrunched face told her enough, "Listen, before Harry and I married, we lived together for a few months, learning to know each other. I don't know if we would have married so quickly if not for a little James accident." A palm rubbed over the extended belly, calming baby number two and easing the vicious kicks against the ribs. "Only when you're completely at ease, you can consider accepting his proposal and making things official. But for now, he wants to move in and share his life? Let him. There's no better way to learn about someone than living with him daily."

A new little foot nudge took her breath away; Ginny was dying to give birth, if not only to have some peace back. "I had to drill Harry into putting his socks in the hamper, Ron's bad Hogwarts habit grew on him too much for my taste. How many times did I ask my dear husband to set his mug inside the sink before he came to bed? Or simply to clean a little after eating a snack?" Hermione could only imagine, knowing Ginny's short temper. "Your wizard is used to have a house-elf clean up after his arse, so I'm curious if he is a tidy person or a complete catastrophe without his personal cleaning assistant."

"He's tidy, he helps me clean up the kitchen after we cook together," Hermione mumbled.

"You cook together?" Ginny's mouth fell open.

"Well, yes, he cuts the vegetables with more precision than I do, and has a nose for seasoning better than mine." Actually, Hermione loved to watch him handle the knife, often enough fantasising about those long fingers and what they could do to her body. Her face flushed once more, and she ordered a new pot of tea to evade the lewd comment on Ginny's lips.

"Have you tested the kitchen's table? Can it withstand heavy banging?" Hermione squeezed her eyes tightly at the memories - yes multiple - of when she couldn't handle the arousal and pulled her wizard between her legs to demand that he took care of her. Not once had he denied her a good shag. On the dinner table, or on the counter, or even that one time against her refrigerator, thank Merlin that the appliance held it up. "That bad, eh?" Ginny broke in a fit of giggles. "Oh boy… wait until Harry hears about this!"

A finger showed before the younger girls eyes, "Don't you dare, Ginny!"

"Stop thinking so much and let it happen, Hermione. Do it for me, I have the feeling you won't regret it." Never in a thousand years, could Ginny have imagined that she would talk on the git's behalf, but see her do it anyway. "On top of it, you keep telling me how friendly Narcissa is around you, and how much you love a round of Lucius bantering. They won't sabotage you, they are dying to arrange your wedding on their premises."

"We've agreed to merge our daily life after Gregory's wedding." Ginny waited for what else was following this soft confession, "What if he finds a side piece?"

"Say yes to the man and your worries will vanish." The solution was as clear as water.

"No. I'm not sure of his feelings, and I'm not ready yet for such a commitment." This time it was a convincing tone. No wedding in the foreseeable future.

"Hermione, you drive him and me nuts. This man has gone out of his way to give you anything you need, you have a house which I'm jealous of, he cooks, for Merlin's sake, and something tells me that shagging you isn't a burden at all. He will not be looking for a side piece unless you give him a reason to. If you keep him at bay, keep rejecting him as a life partner, then even I can't blame him. He's a man of flesh and blood, not some servant at your beck and call." Truth tea was served steaming hot, Hermione couldn't dispute the logic. "Honestly, I don't know why you are postponing this with another two weeks, if you go on like this I see you capable of calling it off."

"I need time..."

"You need someone to hit you in the head instead, but I don't want blood on my hands." Ginny stood up, motioning Hermione to follow her, "You and I are going to shop for some new sexy underwear, you put it on tonight and show him what a sexy vixen you are, and afterwards you tell him to move in the next day." There was barely a difference between pulling a dog on a leash and the arm which dragged Hermione towards their destiny.

Not that Hermione uttered a word to refuse the plan.

-oOo-

"Hermione?" Draco brushed the soot off of his clothes, finding the living room in darkness. Usually, she had a fire crackling in the hearth, to counter the cold November days…

She called him, "In the kitchen."

The scent of roast beef in the oven was seducing him towards his witch, his stomach growling in agreement.

Dressed in a white apron, hair in a bun on top of her head, the brunette finished cutting the green top off the last strawberry before setting them away in the refrigerator. Waiting for him on the counter stood a red glass of wine, its neighbour bore traces of sipping. Picking it up, he beelined first to peck her lips before peeking into the oven, "Is this one of your urges? Instead of pickles or olives?"

"I knew you were coming tonight and wanted to surprise you, no more to it." Hermione dried her hands on the tea towel before gathering the necessary cutlery and plates to dress the dinner table. The load was off her hands in a second, and sent to their usual spots at the table, never even touching the water glasses as Draco beat her at the task.

"Nice surprise, it smells good also." In fact, he could see him arriving home after work to this type of domesticity, food almost ready, helping set up the table, enjoy a good glass before eating while she enquired after his workday, as in just now.

"How was your day, Draco?"

"As usual, trying to drill some sense into those idiots on how to organise a tournament." His hair was mussed after taking off his jumper, the fingers loosening the two highest buttons of his Oxford next, "The way they look up to you as if you're speaking Mandarin unless it's about food or drinks." Draco rolled up his sleeves in the meantime, "How long before it's ready?"

"Just ten more minutes." Mindlessly, her fingers raked through his blond tresses, shoving a little of order in the chaos. "I understand your frustration, I used to feel like I'm talking to toddlers, breaking my ideas into tiny words to be understood."

"Hmm…" He grinned at her ' _oof'_ pulling her between his legs, her frame pressed tightly against him; nosing her throat before placing a kiss on the column of her neck, "I like this." One hand between her shoulder blades, while the other stroked from the spine to her globes and back.

Her fingers curled against his chest, coughing before speaking, huskily. "What exactly?" She felt as if she was in another universe, the tenderness of his touch, was it the fingers or his lips, clouded her mind and left her hungry for more.

"You, asking about my working day, our home smelling deliciously of a home-cooked meal, and a little snuggling. I can see myself becoming easily addicted to this." The hand on her shoulders pulled a pack of hair back, so her throat was entirely at the mercy of his lips, "You've used my mother's rose ethereal oil…" his teeth scraped against her sensitive skin.

"I took a bath before you arrived, to relax after a double session on Wizarding Discrimination Law, the professor is sleep-inducing, no matter how much I try to stay awake." It wasn't the first time she relished in the fact that, after the Autumn break, she was done with this subject.

"Hmm, who knew that Miss Swot could feel bored in a class like the rest of us…" He sucked that one spot that made her squirm.

A shrill alarm blared, and his arms were empty in no time, "The roast is ready!" Hermione flew to the oven, taking a second time to compose herself. Her piece of meat was dripping, and so was her own core… a little longer and she didn't mind letting their food burn for the sake of a new round of shagging on their dinner table.

Draco used the leeway in the meantime to shift a particular body part to a more comfortable position, yet lewdly enjoying how much he affected her. Not that he uttered a lie. Coming home like this was something he didn't know he missed in his life, but instantly longed after more of it.

"Can you cut the meat? You slice it thinner than I do…" Hermione fanned her blush away, piercing the roast on a fork before placing it in the middle of a wooden cutting board. It couldn't be cosier than this, him placing thinly cut slices on a plate while she added the carrots, beans and potatoes; though it could be better if she didn't keep avoiding his eyes.

-oOo-

Instead of the kitchen, Draco lured her into eating their dessert to the living room, after they cleaned up the dinner mess, content that she was learning a thing or two about seasoning.

The tip of a perfectly heart-shaped strawberry was dipped into the chocolate - Hermione used one of Molly's charms to keep it molten - and brought to the witches' open lips. Her hand flew under the chin to catch the dripping juice, though it was licked clean by a wicked Slytherin tongue.

The blond head hovered over her face, the silver stare burning hot, registering her ragged breathing, "I have an idea, little lioness."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Absolutely not sorry for the cliffhanger*
> 
> As always all my love goes to Magzillasaurus xxx


	19. Chapter 20: Strawberries part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a deep breath before you start reading. I have no compassion, haha :D
> 
> Thank you, Magzillasaurus for all your help xxx

 

**Chapter 20: Strawberries part II**

' _I have an idea…'_

He laced their fingers and pulled her in one move out of her seat, levitating the bowls next to them, heading upstairs into the bedroom; announcing in a low husky tone, "I'm going to lick the chocolate off my favourite places."

She followed meekly, feet treading on automatic pilot, "Draco..." Her mind didn't even fight her surrender, aside from a little warning if she wasn't biting off more than she could chew… Nevertheless, she breathed shallowly, tongue licking her parted lips, breathing shallowly.

"Don't worry about the dirty sheets, love, Tibby loves to wash laundry." He silenced her with a heated kiss, while his hands grabbed her blouse, tugging it open - buttons hitting the window like small projectiles. One hand snapped open her bra before joining the other to shove her skirt down her legs together with the lacy knickers.

Bending his knees lightly, Draco lifted his witch bridal style and set her in the middle of their bed, divesting quickly of his garments before joining her. The bowls finally landed next to his body, within hands reach. Humming, he chose a lush strawberry dipping it in the molten mass and drawing dark brown traces over her chest, the tip climbing up her bosom to circle the taut nipple before the wizard sank his teeth in the pink fruit flesh, drops of juice falling on her skin.

Her eyelids fluttered closed in desire, the brown resembling a dark pool of arousal. She hissed as the burning tongue laved the sugary coating, the tip trailing around the peak over and over again, licking up every trace. "Delicious, love. Let me try the other side." Draco repeated all his motions on her other tit, rubbing the half bitten strawberry over the nipple to mingle both tastes, "Strawberry Hermione, a divine combination."

She panted, hips arching against his hardened member, seeking friction, "Draco..." Shifting between her legs to intensify her pleasure, he kept feeding her berry after berry, some coated with chocolate, letting her suck the juice from his digits. His gaze never left her face, though he alternated between the fruit and chocolate dipped fingers, waiting until they were neatly licked before offering some more.

Taunting, the long fingers strayed from her mouth to smear the nipple, and all the surroundings in his favourite sauce,  _a wizard must indulge also..._  Resisting the blazing arousal however was becoming increasingly difficult, all heightened by the arching of her hips, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, while she begged between the whimpers and mewls, "What are you doing to me?"

He flashed her a dirty look, before sliding down the mattress up to mound height. Chocolate glazed fingers spread her tights widely and rubbed the wetness coating her folds. He brought one digit to his mouth and sucked clean loudly, reaching out to dip two fingers in the fast dimming sauce, "Just savouring this new combination, so delicious. I'm getting addicted…" The digits painted brown circles around her clit and her entrance, seconds before the feel of his tongue made her hips jerk of the bed.

Not one of her erotic novels could top the sensations she was drowning in, Draco worshipping her pussy as his favourite source of food. Two fingers found her source of slick and arched within her walls quickly, touching that special place that had her squirming loudly in no time, "Draco...please...oh fuck..."

"Yes, love?" He kept a steady rhythm of pumping and licking, sucking her hooded nub. "Are you close?" A gush of liquid trickled down his wrist, "Hmm, you taste sweeter than usual…" The sounds coming from all the lewd things he did between her legs, would bring out her sheer embarrassment if her common sense wasn't turned off; heart, mind and soul surrendering to all the sensations invading her thoughts.

For a second she tensed, shattering in waves of fire as her peak flooded through her, jerking erratically, head thrown back. Draco rode it out, pumping inside her clenching walls without shifting his gaze away from her face in bliss. Feeling her surrender, the trust she placed in him to take care of her, fought for dominance with his arousal. His cock was ready to explode as he entered her in one thrust, her core tightening around him to avoid escaping.

"Fuck, you feel amazing…" He could stay like this forever, her arms cradling his back, legs wrapped around his waist.

"Draco, move…" She scraped her teeth along the column of his neck, grasping the skin of his shoulder blades.

"Your wish…" He snapped his hips against her, "Is my command." Draco hooked an arm below the knee, pulling her leg up, thrusting into her as if there was no tomorrow. Forehead resting against a sweaty shoulder to gain some grounding before the mouth would plunder the parted female lips or the eyes roamed over her blushed features, drowning in the desire burning in them.

Hermione held on to him, her rock in the stormy sea of passion, whimpering from the welcome onslaught on her core, a cock reaching deeper at each snap of hips. Draco resembled a possessed man, blushing, grunting heavily, cursing when her fingernails scratched his scalp or the planes of his back, leaving red trails behind. He reached a hand between them rubbing the centre of her nerves and forcing her down the pool of fire in her abdomen, waiting for the explosion.

There was only so much a woman could take before she splintered, everything around her becoming white noise aside from his growls, the long exhales of breath and the pulsing of his cock inside her core, heated jets of come flooding her quim at each jerking of hips.

The earth stopped spinning for a moment or two, the mind trying to grasp what happened for both of them. Grey eyes kept an intense stare down at a closed pair, until the eyelids fluttered open, corners of his mouth curling into an exhausted smile, "Wow." He braced his arms to relive her body from his weight.

Hermione responded with a weak smile, "You can say that." Her fingers pushed a few sweaty blond strands away from his eyes, "Strawberries and chocolate are a dangerous combination."

"No complaints from me, witch." She felt the rumbling of his tummy against her, "Whenever you want, I'm in for another round of Chocolate Hermione, I have a very sweet tooth, remember?"

Draco flipped onto his back, pushing her to curl around his body, a bent leg over his waist. He was still soaring in the post-coital bliss, humming a few times.

Hermione rose lightly to rest her chin on his pectoral, "I spoke with Ginny today about our arrangement." His gaze fixed on her in a second waiting for what followed, "You moving in here…" He remained silent, wondering if he needed to thank the red-haired woman or hex her arse, "She told me that there was no reason to postpone it until Greg's wedding."

The only sound between them was the shuffling of feet under the sheets.

She sought her courage by drawing circles on the tuft of blond chest hair, "Would you move in, sooner? As in tomorrow?"

"What do you want?" He had trouble controlling the insane flipping of his heart, the organ punching in the air of joy, for sure.

"I don't like to see you leave." She stared into the distance, at everything but his face, as a confession, it counted. "I don't know if I'll be more ready for this next step within two weeks than I am now. I'm afraid that I'll overthink things too much… while I truly enjoyed waiting for you to come home from work."

 _This was it, he was dreaming and would wake up in a second in his cold bed at the Manor. No way that his witch was confessing missing his presence, which phase was this in his plan? The second to last?_  Her eyes never caught the satisfied eye glint, the predatorial Slytherin grin of a very happy wizard who looked as if he won the lottery, despite his personal concern of imagining things.

"I liked that too," He cleared his throat to control the victorious tone in his voice before she would rethink her decision. "It felt nice to smell a delicious dinner as a welcome home, you waiting for me and asking how my day went by. So much different than at the Manor, less formal. It's my turn tomorrow, to repay the favour."

"Will you move in...please?"

He cradled her face and lifted her gaze to his, forcing her to stare at him and nowhere else, "If it were up to me, I would have lived here already from the very first day. This feels like a home, you feel like home." Draco claimed her mouth in a heated kiss, feeling his groin stir to life once again, "You are my home."

Her whimper became a moan, once he pushed her into straddling his body and entering her slick walls. Not the frenzy of their previous love session, but a deliberate savouring of each other, falling asleep moments after, the wizard unable to contain his grin of fulfilment.

-oOo-

Ginny forgot to tell her that living together with a wizard required some adjustments.

Like getting used to raised toilet seats. As such not that big of a problem, because it takes a small gesture to pull it down. Unless, she woke up in the middle of the night, blindly walking towards the bathroom, hunching and nearly falling inside of the pot because the seat was wider than expected.

The first time it happened, three nights later, the surprise was of such magnitude that she screamed her lungs out, waking up the culprit who barged in, the wand ready to defend. His sleepy deflecting, "Oh, I thought you were in danger. Be careful next time..." was far from appreciated and earned him an earful.

As retaliation, Hermione stole his side of the bedding, blocking it with a charm against reclaiming.

The second, per coincidence the next evening, the annoyed witch hexed the blond's arse, earning her a grunt though he never woke up.

The morning after, he wondered why he had a red bruise on his globe, "Have I bumped into something without knowing?" watching his body's image in the mirror.

"You have, it was my wand." He frowned confused, waiting for further elaboration at a snarky tone, "I almost fell through the seat again, why can't you lower the seat?"

"You hexed my arse last night?" All of a sudden, his face changed from good-humoured to not amused, pursing his lips, "Do you think I do it on purpose?"

"Do you think it's funny to fall through the gap and feel the water under your arse in the middle of the night?" She was pressing oranges for fresh juice, while he leaned against the counter waiting until the coffee was finished dripping. "I'm used to automatic pilot visits to the bathroom, I'm barely conscious. But since yesterday, I'm wide awake after my mandatory pitstop."

"Well, I'll try to remember, but no hexing my behind again or I'll spank your lovely arse in return."

That last bit sounded more like he was eager to do so, which in turn made her realise that it might not be so bad after all.

So to test his resolve - whether he left it up on purpose or by mistake, though she paid attention before sitting - she hexed his arse while pushing him off the bed.

Funny enough, Draco thought at first to have fallen off the bed by himself. Until he saw that morning the new mark...


End file.
